:S    BRANCH  GABELL 

TRATED  fir  -.HOWARD  PYLE 


UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 
SANTA    CRUZ 


ft 

Sit 


THE      SOUL      OF      MELICENT 


OTHER  BOOKS  BY  MR.  CABELL 


THE  EAGLE'S  SHADOW 

GALLANTRY 

THE  LINE  OF  LOVE 

CHIVALRY 

THE  CORDS  OF  VANITY 


BRANCHIANA 

BRANCH  OF  ABINGDON 


'Demetrios  wrenched  the  sword  from  its  scabbard" 


THE  SOUL   OF 
MELICENT 


BY 

JAMES  BRANCH  CABELL 
//I 

ILLUSTRATED  IN  COLOUR  BY 

HOWARD  PYLE 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  IQ7J,  by 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

Copyright,  1908,  IQII,  by 
HARPER  AND  BROTHERS 


All  rights  reserved 


Sept  ember  %  1 913 


TO 

SARAH  READ  McADAMS 
IN   GRATITUDE  AND  AFFECTION 


how,  through  Woman-Worship,  knaves  compound 

With  honoure;  Kings  reck  not  of  their  domaine; 
Proud  Pontiffs  sigh;  &  War-men  world-renownd, 

Toe  win  one  Woman,  all  things  else  disdaine; 

Since  Melicent  doth  in  herself e  contayne 
All  this  worlds  Riches  that  may  farre  be  found: 

If  Saphyres,  loe,  her  eies  be  Saphyres  plaine; 
If  Rubies,  loe,  hir  lips  be  Rubyes  sound; 
If  Pearles,  hir  teeth  be  Pearles,  both  pure  &  round; 

If  Yvorie,  her  forehead  Yvory  weene; 
If  Gold,  her  locks  with  finest  Gold  abound; 

If  Silver,  her  faire  hands  have  Silvers  sheen: 
Yet  that  which  fayrest  is,  but  Few  beholde, 
Her  Soul  adornd  with  vertues  manifold." 


CONTENTS 


PART  I 
PERION 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     How  PERION  WAS  UNMASKED      ....  3 

II       HOW    THE    VlCOMTE   WAS    VERY    GAY           .        .  II 

III  How  MELICENT  WOOED  PERION   ....  14 

IV  How  PERION  BROKE  FAITH  WITH  MELUSINE  23 
V     How  THE  BISHOP  AIDED  PERION       ...  25 

VI     How  MELICENT  WEDDED  PERION                  .  33 

PART  II 
MELICENT 

I    How  MELICENT  SOUGHT  PERION  OVERSEA  .  41 

II     How  MELICENT  BARGAINED 45 

III  How  PERION  WAS  FREED 51 

IV  How  DEMETRIOS  WAS  AMUSED     ....  54 
V    How  THE  TIME  SPED  IN  HEATHENRY    .      .  59 

VI     How  FLAMBERGE  WAS  DRAWN      ....  62 

VII     How  AHASUERUS  WAS  PATIENT   ....  67 

VIII     How  DEMETRIOS  WOOED 70 


CONTENTS 


PART  III 
DEMETRIOS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  How  DEMETRIOS  WAS  TAKEN       ....  77 

II  How  THEY  PRAISED  MELICENT    ....  82 

III  How  PERION  BRAVED  THEODORET      ...  87 

IV  How  PERION  FOUGHT  IN  SANNAZARO    .     .  97 
V    How  DEMETRIOS  MEDITATED 105 

VI  How  A  MINSTREL  CAME  TO  SAN  ALESSANDRO  109 

VII  How  THEY  CRIED  QUITS 118 

VIII  How  FLAMBERGE  WAS  LOST 122 

IX  How  PERION  GOT  UNEXPECTED  AID      .     .  129 

PART  IV 
AHASUERUS 

I    How  DEMETRIOS  HELD  THE  QUEEN'S  STAIR- 
WAY        137 

II     How  DEMETRIOS  STRUGGLED 140 

III  How  MISERY  HELD  NACUMERA    ....   145 

IV  How  DEMETRIOS  CRIED  FAREWELL    .     .     .151 
V    How  ORESTES  RULED 161 

VI  How  WOMEN  TALKED  TOGETHER      .     .     .165 

VII  How  MEN  ORDERED  MATTERS       ....   172 

VIII  How  AHASUERUS  WAS  CANDID     ....   177 

IX  How  PERION  SAW  MELICENT       ....   181 

X  How  MELICENT  CRIED  A  NEW  BARGAIN      .   187 

XI  How  THE  JEW  TOLD  ALL  His  PLAN      .     .193 

XII  How  PERION  FOUND  MELICENT   ....   199 

AFTERWORD 203 


PART  ONE 
PERION 

How  Perion,  that  stalwart  was  and  gay, 
Treadeth  with  sorrow  on  a  holiday, 
Since  Melicent  anon  must  wed  a  king: 
How  in  his  heart  he  hath  vain  love-longing, 
For  which  he  putteth  life  in  forfeiture, 
And  would  no  longer  in  such  wise  endure; 
For  writhing  Perion  in  Venus'  fire 
So  burneth  that  he  dieth  for  desire. 


THE     SOUL    OF 
MELICENT 

i 

HOW    PERION    WAS   UNMASKED 

PERION  afterward  remembered  the  two 
weeks  spent  at  Bellegarde  as  in  recovery 
from  illness  a  person  might  remember 
some  long  fever-dream  which  was  all  of  an  in- 
tolerable elvish  brightness  and  of  incessant  laugh- 
ter everywhere.  They  made  a  deal  of  him  in 
Count  Emmerick's  pleasant  home ;  and  day  by  day 
the  outlaw  was  thrust  into  relations  of  mirth  with 
noblemen,  proud  ladies,  and  a  king  even,  being 
the  while  half  lightheaded  through  his  singular 
knowledge  as  to  how  precariously  the  self-styled 
Vicomte  de  Puysange  now  balanced  himself,  as  it 
were,  upon  a  gilded  stepping-stone  from  infamy 
to  oblivion. 

Now  that  King  Theodoret  had  withdrawn  his 
sinister  presence,  young  Perion  spent  some  seven 

[3] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

hours  of  every  day  alone,  to  all  intent,  with  Dame 
Melicent.  There  would  be  merry  people  within 
a  stone's  throw,  it  might  be,  about  this  recreation 
or  another,  but  these  two  seemed  to  watch  aloofly, 
as  royal  persons  do  the  antics  of  their  hired  come- 
dians, without  any  condescension  into  open  inter- 
est. They  were  together ;  and  the  jostle  of  earthly 
happenings  might  hope,  at  most,  to  afford  them 
matter  for  incurious  comment. 

They  sat,  as  Perion  thought,  for  the  last  time 
together,  part  of  a  vast  audience  before  which 
the  Confraternity  of  St.  Medard  was  enacting 
a  masque  of  The  Birth  of  Hercules.  The  Bishop 
of  Montors  had  returned  to  Bellegarde  that  even- 
ing with  his  brother,  Count  Gui,  and  the  pleasure- 
loving  prelate  had  brought  these  mirth-makers 
in  his  train.  Clad  in  scarlet,  he  rode  before  them 
playing  upon  a  lute — unclerical  conduct  which 
shocked  his  preciser  brother  and  surprised  no- 
body. 

In  such  circumstances  Perion  began  to  speak 
with  an  odd  purpose,  because  his  reason  was  be- 
drugged  by  the  beauty  and  purity  of  Melicent, 

[4] 


"The  Bishop  of  Montors  had  returned" 


PERION        IS        UNMASKED 

and  perhaps  a  little  by  the  slow  and  clutching 
music  to  whose  progress  the  chorus  of  Theban 
virgins  was  dancing.  When  he  had  made  an 
end  of  harsh  whispering,  Melicent  sat  for  a  while 
in  scrupulous  appraisement  of  the  rushes.  The 
music  was  so  sweet  it  seemed  to  Perion  he  must 
go  mad  unless  she  spoke  within  the  moment. 

"You  tell  me  you  are  not  the  Vicomte  de  Puy- 
sange.  You  tell  me  you  are,  instead,  the  late 
King  Hernias'  servitor,  suspected  of  his  murder. 
You  are  the  fellow  that  stole  the  royal  jewels — 
the  outlaw  for  whom  half-Christendom  is  search- 
ing— "  she  began  at  last;  and  still  he  could  not 
intercept  those  huge  and  tender  eyes  whose 
purple  made  the  thought  of  heaven  compre- 
hensible. 

"I  am  that  widely  hounded  Perion  of  the  For- 
est. The  true  vicomte  is  the  wounded  rascal 
whose  delirium  we  marvelled  over  only  last  Tues- 
day. Yes,  at  the  door  of  your  home  I  attacked 
him,  fought  him — hah,  but  fairly,  madame! — 
and  stole  his  brilliant  garments  and  with  them  his 
papers.  Then  in  my  desperate  necessity  I  dared 

[5] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

to  masquerade.  For  I  know  enough  about 
dancing  to  estimate  that  to  dance  upon  air  must 
necessarily  prove  to  everybody  a  disgusting  per- 
formance, but  pre-eminently  so  to  the  main  actor. 
Two  weeks  of  safety  till  the  Tranchemer  sailed  I 
therefore  valued  at  a  perhaps  preposterous  rate. 
To-night,  as  I  have  said,  the  ship  lies  at  anchor 
off  Manneville." 

Melicent  said  an  odd  thing. 

"Oh,  can  it  be  you  are  a  less  despicable  person 
than  you  are  striving  to  appear!" 

"Rather  I  am  a  more  unmitigated  fool  than 
even  I  suspected,  since  when  affairs  were  in  a 
promising  train  I  have  elected  to  blurt  out,  of 
all  things,  the  naked  and  distasteful  truth.  Pro- 
claim it  now;  and  see  the  late  Vicomte  de  Puy- 
sange  lugged  out  of  this  hall  and  after  appropri- 
ate torture  hanged  within  the  month."  And  with 
that  Perion  laughed. 

Then  he  was  silent.  As  the  masque  went, 
Amphitryon  had  newly  returned  from  warfare, 
and  was  singing  under  Alcmena's  window  in  the 
terms  of  an  aubade,  a  waking-song.  "Rei  glo- 

[6] 


PERION       IS       UNMASKED 

rios,  verais  turns  e  clardatz — "  he  had  begun. 
Dame  Melicent  heard  him  through. 

And  after  many  ages,  as  it  seemed  to  Perion, 
the  soft  and  brilliant  and  exquisite  mouth  was 
pricked  to  motion. 

"You  have  affronted,  by  an  incredible  imposture 
and  beyond  the  reach  of  mercy,  every  listener  in 
this  hall.  You  have  injured  me  most  deeply  of 
all  persons  here.  Yet  it  is  to  me  alone  that  you 
confess." 

Perion  leaned  forward.  You  are  to  under- 
stand that,  through  the  incurrent  necessities  of 
every  circumstance,  each  of  them  spoke  in  whis- 
pers, even  now.  It  was  curious  to  note  the  candid 
mirth  on  either  side.  Mercury  was  making  his 
adieux  to  Alcmena's  waiting-woman  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a  jig. 

"But  you,"  sneered  Perion,  "are  merciful  in 
all  things.  Rogue  that  I  am,  I  dare  to  build  on 
this  notorious  fact.  I  am  snared  in  a  hard  golden 
trap,  I  cannot  get  a  guide  to  Manneville,  I  can- 
not even  procure  a  horse  from  Count  Emmerick's 
stables  without  arousing  fatal  suspicions;  and  I 

[7] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

must  be  at  Manneville  by  dawn  or  else  be  hanged. 
Therefore  I  dare  stake  all  upon  one  throw;  and 
you  must  either  save  or  hang  me  now  with  un- 
washed hands.  As  surely  as  God  reigns,  my  fu- 
ture rests  with  you.  And  as  I  am  perfectly 
aware,  you  could  not  comfortably  live  with  a 
gnat's  death  upon  your  conscience.  Eh,  am  I  not 
a  seasoned  rascal?" 

"Do  not  remind  me  now  that  you  are  vile,"  said 
Melicent  "Ah,  no,  not  now !" 

"Lackey,  impostor,  and  thief!"  he  sternly  an- 
swered. "There  you  have  the  catalogue  of  all 
my  rightful  titles.  And  besides,  it  pleases  me, 
for  a  reason  I  cannot  entirely  fathom,  to  be  un- 
pardonably  candid,  to  fling  my  destiny  into  your 
lap.  To-night,  as  I  have  said,  the  Tranchemer 
lies  off  Manneville ;  keep  counsel,  get  me  a  horse 
if  you  will,  and  to-morrow  I  am  embarked  for 
desperate  service  under  the  harried  Kaiser  of 
the  Greeks  from  which  I  am  not  likely  ever  to  re- 
turn. Speak,  and  I  hang  before  the  month  is  up." 

Dame  Melicent  looked  at  him  now,  and  within 
[8] 


PERION        IS       UNMASKED 

the  moment  Perion  was  repaid,  and  bountifully, 
for  ever  folly  and  misdeed  of  his  entire  life. 

"What  harm  have  I  ever  done  you,  Messire  de 
la  Foret,  that  you  should  shame  me  in  this  fash- 
ion? Until  to-night  I  was  not  unhappy  in  the 
belief  I  was  loved  by  you.  I  may  say  that  now 
without  paltering,  since  you  are  not  the  man  I 
thought  some  day  to  love.  You  are  but  the  rind 
of  him.  And  you  would  force  me  to  cheat  justice, 
to  become  a  hunted  thief's  accomplice,  or  else  to 
murder  you!" 

"Undoubtedly,  madame." 

"Then  I  must  help  you  to  preserve  your  life 
by  any  sorry  stratagems  you  may  devise.  I  shall 
not  hinder  you.  I  will  procure  you  a  guide  to 
Manneville.  I  will  even  forgive  you  all  save  one 
offence,  since  doubtless  heaven  made  you  the  foul 
thing  you  are."  The  girl  was  in  a  hot  and  splen- 
did rage.  "For  you  love  me.  Women  know. 
You  love  me.  You!" 

"Undoubtedly,  madame." 

"Look  into  my  face !  and  say  what  horrid  writ 

[9] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

of  infamy  you  fancied  was  apparent  there,  that  my 
nails  may  destroy  it." 

"I  am  all  base,"  he  answered,  "and  yet  not  so 
profoundly  base  as  you  suppose.  Nay,  believe 
me,  I  had  never  hoped  to  win  even  such  scornful 
kindness  as  you  might  accord  your  lapdog.  I 
have  but  dared  to  peep  at  heaven  while  I  might, 
and  only  as  lost  Dives  did.  Ignoble  as  I  am,  I 
never  dreamed  to  squire  an  angel  down  toward 
the  mire  and  filth  which  is  henceforward  my  in- 
evitable kennel." 

"The  masque  is  done,"  said  Melicent,  "and  yet 
you  talk,  and  talk,  and  talk,  and  mimic  truth  so 
cunningly —  Well,  I  will  send  some  trusty  per- 
son to  you.  And  now,  for  God's  sake ! — nay,  for 
the  fiend's  love  who  is  your  patron ! — let  me  not 
ever  see  you  again,  Messire  de  la  Foret." 


[10] 


II 

HOW   THE  VICOMTE  WAS   VERY   GAY 

THERE  was  dancing  afterward  and  a 
sumptuous  supper.  The  Vicomte  de 
Puysange  was  generally  accounted  the 
most  excellent  of  company  that  evening.  He 
mingled  affably  with  the  revellers  and  found  a 
prosperous  answer  for  every  jest  they  broke  upon 
the  projected  marriage  of  Dame  Melicent  and 
King  Theodoret;  and  meanwhile  hugged  the  re- 
flection that  half  the  realm  was  hunting  Perion  de 
la  Foret  in  the  more  customary  haunts  of  rascal- 
ity. The  springs  of  Perion's  turbulent  mirth  were 
that  to-morrow  every  person  in  the  room  would 
discover  how  impudently  he  had  been  tricked,  and 
that  Melicent  deliberated  even  now,  and  could  not 
but  admire,  the  hunted  outlaw's  insolence,  how- 
ever much  she  loathed  its  perpetrator;  and  over 
this  thought  in  particular  Perion  laughed  like  a 
madman. 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

"You  are  very  gay  to-night,  Messire  de  Puy- 
sange,"  said  the  Bishop  of  Montors. 

This  remarkable  young  man,  it  is  necessary  to 
repeat,  had  reached  Bellegarde  that  evening,  com- 
ing from  Brunbelois.  It  was  he  (as  you  have 
heard)  who  had  arranged  the  match  with  Theo- 
doret.  The  bishop  himself  loved  his  cousin  Meli- 
cent;  but,  now  that  he  was  in  holy  orders  and 
possession  of  her  had  become  impossible,  he  had 
cannily  resolved  to  utilise  her  beauty,  as  he  did 
everything  else,  toward  his  own  preferment. 

Then  the  young  prelate  said,  oddly  enough, 
"  But  you  have  an  excellent  reason,  being  now, 
perhaps,  so  near  to  heaven."  His  glance  at  Meli- 
cent  did  not  lack  pith. 

"No,  I  have  quite  another  reason,"  Perion  an- 
swered; "it  is  that  to-morrow  I  must  breakfast  in 
hell." 

And  he  thought  how  true  this  was  when,  at  the 
evening's  end,  he  was  alone  in  his  own  room. 
His  life  was  tolerably  secure.  He  trusted  Aha- 
suerus  the  Jew  to  see  to  it  that,  about  dawn,  one 
of  the  ship's  boats  would  touch  at  Fomor  Beach 

[12] 


THE       V  I  C  O  M  T  E       IS       GAY 

near  Manneville,  according  to  their  old  agree- 
ment. Aboard  the  Tranchemer  the  Free  Com- 
panions awaited  their  captain;  and  the  savage 
land  they  were  bound  for  was  a  thought  beyond 
the  reach  of  a  kingdom's  lamentable  curiosity 
concerning  the  whereabouts  of  King  Hernias' 
treasure.  The  worthless  life  of  Perion  was  safe. 
For  worthless,  and  far  less  than  worthless,  life 
seemed  to  Perion  as  he  thought  of  Melicent  and 
waited  for  her  messenger.  He  thought  of  her 
beauty  and  purity  and  illimitable  loving-kindness 
toward  every  person  in  the  world  saving  only 
Perion  of  the  Forest.  He  thought  of  how  clean 
she  was  in  every  thought  and  deed,  and  of  that, 
above  all,  he  thought,  and  he  knew  that  he  would 
never  see  her  any  more;  and  in  his  heart  there 
was  hunger. 


Ill 

HOW    MELICENT   WOOED   PERION 

THEN  Perion  knew  that  vain  regret  had 
turned  his  brain,  very  certainly,  for  it 
seemed  the  door  had  opened  and  Dame 
Melicent  herself  had  come,  warily,  into  the  pan- 
elled  gloomy   room.     It   seemed   that   Melicent 
paused  in  the  convulsive  brilliancy  of  the  firelight, 
and  stayed  thus  with  vaguely  troubled  eyes  like 
those  of  a  child  newly  wakened  from  sleep. 

And  it  seemed  a  long  while  before  she  told 
Perion  very  quietly  that  she  had  confessed  all  to 
Ayrart  de  Montors,  and  had,  by  reason  of  de 
Mentors'  '  >ve  for  her,  so  goaded  and  allured  the 
outcon  their  talk — "ignobly,"  as  she  said — 
that  a  clean-handed  gentleman  would  come  at 
^iree  o'clock  for  Perion  de  la  Foret,  and  guide  a 

GT  . 

thief  toward  unmerited  impunity.  All  this  she 
spoke  quite  levelly,  as  one  reads  aloud  from  a 
book;  and  then,  with  a  signal  change  of  voice, 

[143 


MELICENT      WOOES      PERION 

Melicent  said:  "Yes,  that  is  true  enough.  Yet 
why,  in  reality,  do  you  think  I  have  in  my  own 
person  come  to  tell  you  of  it?" 

"Madame,  I  may  not  guess.  Hah,  indeed,  in- 
deed," Perion  cried,  because  he  knew  the  truth 
and  was  unspeakably  afraid,  "I  dare  not  guess !" 

"You  sail  to-morrow  for  the  fighting  over- 
sea— "  she  began,  but  her  sweet  voice  trailed  and 
died  into  silence.  He  heard  the  crepitations  of 
the  fire,  and  even  the  hurried  beatings  of  his  own 
heart,  as  against  a  terrible  and  lovely  hush  of  all 
created  life.  "Then  take  me  with  you." 

Perion  had  never  any  recollection  of  what  he 
answered.  Indeed,  he  uttered  no  communicative 
words,  but  only  many  foolish  babblements. 

"Oh,  I  do  not  understand,"  said  Melicent.  "It 
is  as  though  some  spell  were  laid  upon,  me.  Look 

Di    o 

you,  I  have  been  cleanly  reared,  L  have  never 

ci    70  OL 

wronged  any  person  that  I  know  of,  cinpd  d.  rough- 
out  my  quiet,  sheltered  life  I  have  loved  truth  and 
honour  most  of  all.  My  judgment  grants  y  "*. 
to  be  what  you  are  confessedly.  And  there  is 
that  in  me  more  masterful  and  surer  than  my 

[15] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

judgment,  that  which  seems  omnipotent  and 
lightly  puts  aside  your  own  confession." 

"Lackey,  impostor,  and  thief!"  young  Perion 
answered.  "There  you  have  the  catalogue  of  all 
my  rightful  titles  fairly  earned." 

"And  even  if  I  believe  you,  I  think  I  would  not 
care!  Is  that  not  strange?  For  then  I  should 
despise  you.  And  even  then,  I  think,  I  would 
fling  my  honour  at  your  feet,  as  I  do  now,  and 
but  in  part  with  loathing  entreat  you  to  make  of 
me  your  wife,  your  servant,  anything  that  pleased 
you.  .  .  .  Oh,  I  had  thought  that  when  love  came 
it  would  be  sweet !" 

Strangely  quiet — yes,  in  every  sense — he  an- 
swered : 

"It  is  very  sweet.  I  have  known  no  happier 
moment  in  my  life.  For  you  stand  within  arm's 
reach,  mine  to  touch,  mine  to  possess  and  do  with 
as  I  will.  And  I  dare  not  lift  a  finger.  I  am  as  a 
man  that  has  lain  for  a  long  while  in  a  dungeon 
vainly  hungering  for  the  glad  light  of  day — who, 
being  freed  at  last,  must  hide  his  eyes  from  the 
dear  sunlight  he  dare  not  look  upon  as  yet.  Ho. 

[16] 


MELICENT      WOOES      PERION 

I  am  past  speech  unworthy  of  your  notice !  and  I 
pray  you  now  speak  harshly  with  me,  madame,  for 
when  your  pure  eyes  regard  me  kindly,  and  your 
bright  and  delicate  lips  have  come  thus  near  to 
mine,  I  am  so  greatly  tempted  and  so  happy  that 
I  fear  lest  heaven  grow  jealous !" 

"Be  not  too  much  afraid — "  she  murmured. 

"Nay,  should  I  then  be  bold?  and  within  the 
moment  wake  Count  Emmerick  to  say  to  him, 
very  boldly,  'Beau  sire,  the  thief  half-Christen- 
dom is  hunting  has  the  honour  to  request  your 
sister's  hand  in  marriage'  ?" 

"You  sail  to-morrow  for  the  fighting  oversea. 
Take  me  with  you." 

"Indeed  the  feat  would  be  quite  worthy  of  me. 
For  you  are  a  lady  tenderly  nurtured  and  used  to 
every  luxury  the  age  affords.  There  comes  to 
woo  you  presently  an  excellent  and  potent  mon- 
arch, not  all  unworthy  of  your  love,  who  will  pres- 
ently share  with  you  many  happy  and  honourable 
years.  Yonder  is  a  lawless  naked  wilderness 
where  I  and  my  fellow  desperadoes  hope  to  cheat 
offended  justice  of  a  mere  existence.  You  bid 

[17] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

me  aid  you  to  go  into  this  country,  never  to  re- 
turn! Madame,  if  I  obeyed  you,  Satan  would 
protest  against  pollution  of  his  ageless  fires  by  any 
soul  so  filthy." 

"You  talk  of  little  things,  whereas  I  think  of 
great  things.  Love  is  not  sustained  by  palatable 
food  alone,  and  is  not  served  only  by  those  persons 
who  go  about  the  world  in  satin." 

"Then  take  the  shameful  truth.  It  is  undenia- 
ble I  swore  I  loved  you,  and  with  appropriate  ges- 
tures, too.  But,  dompnedex,  madame!  I  am 
past  master  in  these  specious  ecstasies,  for  some- 
how I  have  rarely  seen  the  woman  who  had  not 
some  charm  or  other  to  catch  my  heart  with.  I 
confess  now  that  you  alone  have  never  quickened 
it.  My  only  purpose  was  through  hyperbole  to 
wheedle  you  out  of  a  horse,  and  meanwhile  to 
have  my  recreation,  you  handsome  jade! — and 
that  is  all  you  ever  meant  to  me.  I  swear  to  you 
that  is  all,  all,  all  I"  sobbed  Perion,  for  it  appeared 
that  he  must  die.  "I  have  amused  myself  with 
you,  I  have  abominably  tricked  you — " 

Melicent  only  waited  with  untroubled  eyes 
[18] 


MELICENT      WOOES      PERION 

which  seemed  to  plumb  his  heart  and  to  appraise 
all  which  Perion  had  ever  thought  or  longed  for 
since  the  day  that  Perion  was  born;  and  she  was 
as  beautiful,  it  seemed  to  him,  as  the  untroubled, 
gracious  angels  are,  and  more  compassionate. 

"Yes,"  Perion  said,  "I  am  trying  to  lie  to  you. 
And  even  at  lying  I  fail." 

She  said,  with  a  wonderful  smile: 

"Assuredly  there  were  never  any  other  persons 
so  mad  as  we.  For  I  must  do  the  wooing,  as 
though  you  were  the  maid,  and  all  the  while  you 
rebuff  me  and  suffer  so  that  I  fear  to  look  on 
you.  Men  say  you  are  no  better  than  a  high- 
waymen ;  you  confess  yourself  to  be  a  thief :  and 
I  believe  none  of  your  accusers.  Perion  de  la 
Foret,"  said  Melicent,  and  ballad-makers  have 
never  shaped  a  phrase  wherewith  to  tell  you  of  her 
voice,  "I  know  that  you  have  dabbled  in  dishonour 
no  more  often  than  an  archangel  has  pilfered  dry- 
ing linen  from  a  hedgerow.  I  do  not  guess,  for 
my  hour  is  upon  me,  and  inevitably  I  know !  and 
there  is  nothing  dares  to  come  between  us  now/' 

"Nay, — ho,  and  even  were  matters  as  you  sup- 

[19] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

pose  them,  without  any  warrant — there  is  at  least 
one  silly  stumbling  knave  that  dares  as  much. 
Saith  he:  'What  is  the  most  precious  thing  in 
the  world? — Why,  assuredly,  Dame  Melicent's 
welfare.  Let  me  get  the  keeping  of  it,  then.  For 
I  have  been  entrusted  with  a  host  of  common 
priceless  things — with  youth  and  health  and  hon- 
our, with  a  clean  conscience  and  a  child's  faith, 
and  so  on — and  no  person  alive  has  squandered 
them  more  gallantly.  So  heartward  ho !  and  trust 
me  now,  my  timorous  yokefellow,  to  win  and 
squander  also  the  chief est  jewel  of  the  world/ 
Eh,  thus  he  chuckles  and  nudges  me,  with  wicked 
whisperings.  Indeed,  madame,  this  rascal  that 
shares  equally  in  my  least  faculty  is  a  most  piti- 
ful, ignoble  rogue!  and  he  has  aforetime  eked 
out  our  common  livelihood  by  such  practices  as 
your  unsullied  imagination  could  scarcely  depic- 
ture. Until  I  knew  you  I  had  endured  him.  But 
you  have  made  of  him  a  horror.  A  horror,  a 
horror !  a  thing  too  pitiful  for  hell !"  He  screened 
his  eyes  as  if  before  some  physical  abomination. 
The  girl  kneeled  close  to  him,  touching  him. 

[20] 


MELICENT      WOOES      PERION 

"My  dear,  my  dear !  then  slay  for  me  this  other 
Perion  of  the  Forest/' 

And  Perion  laughed,  although  not  very  mirth- 
fully. 

"It  is  the  common  usage  of  women  to  ask  of 
men  this  little  labour,  which  is  a  harder  task  than 
ever  Hercules,  that  mighty-muscled  king  of 
heathenry,  achieved.  Nay,  I,  for  all  my  sinews, 
am  an  attested  weakling.  The  craft  of  other  men 
I  do  not  fear,  for  I  have  encountered  no  formida- 
ble enemy,  saving  only  myself ;  but  that  same  mid- 
night stabber  unhorsed  me  long  ago.  I  had  wal- 
lowed in  the  mire  contentedly  enough  until  you 
came.  .  .  .  Ah,  child,  child!  why  needed  you  to 
trouble  me!  for  I  want  only  to  be  clean  as  you 
are  clean  to-night,  and  that  I  may  not  ever  be. 
I  am  garrisoned  with  devils,  I  am  the  battered 
plaything  of  every  vice,  and  I  lack  the  strength, 
and  it  may  be,  even  the  will,  to  leave  my  mire. 
Always  I  have  betrayed  the  stewardship  of  man 
and  god  alike  that  my  body  might  escape  a  mo- 
mentary discomfort!  And  loving  you  as  I  do, 
I  cannot  swear  that  in  the  outcome  I  would  not 

[21] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

betray  you  too,  to  this  same  end!  I  cannot 
swear —  Oh,  now  let  Satan  laugh,  yet  not  un- 
pitifully,  since  he  and  I,  alone,  know  all  the  rea- 
sons why  I  may  not  swear !  Hah,  Madame  Meli- 
cent !"  cried  Perion,  in  his  great  agony,  "you  of- 
fer me  that  gift  an  emperor  might  not  accept  save 
in  awed  gratitude;  and  I  refuse  it."  Gently  he 
raised  her  to  her  feet.  "And  now,  in  God's  name, 
go,  madame,  and  leave  the  prodigal  among  his 
husks." 

"You  are  a  very  brave  and  foolish  gentleman," 
she  said,  "who  chooses  to  face  his  own  achieve- 
ments without  any  paltering.  To  every  man,  I 
think,  that  must  be  bitter  work;  to  the  woman 
who  loves  him  it  is  impossible." 

And  Perion  could  not  see  her  face,  because  he 
lay  prone  at  the  feet  of  Melicent,  sobbing,  but 
without  any  tears,  and  tasting  very  deeply  of  such 
grief  and  vain  regret  as,  he  had  thought,  they 
know  in  hell  alone;  and  even  after  she  had  gone, 
in  silence,  he  lay  in  this  same  posture  for  an  ex- 
ceedingly long  while. 

[22] 


IV 

HOW  PERION  BROKE  FAITH  WITH   MELUSINE 

AND  after  he  knew  not  how  long  a  while, 
Perion  propped  his  chin  between  his 
hands  and,  still  sprawling  upon  the 
rushes,  stared  hard  into  the  little,  crackling  fire. 
He  was  thinking  of  a  Perion  de  la  Foret  that  once 
had  been.  In  him  were  found  fit  mate  for  even 
Melicent  had  the  boy  not  died — and  so  long  ago ! 
It  is  no  more  cheerful  than  any  other  mortuary 
employment,  this  disinterment  of  the  person  you 
have  been,  and  are  not  any  longer;  and  so  he 
found  it. 

Then  Perion  arose  and  looked  for  pen  and  ink. 
It  was  the  only  letter  he  ever  wrote  to  Melicent, 
and,  as  you  will  presently  learn,  she  never  saw  it. 

In  such  terms  Perion  wrote : 

"MADAME — It  may  please  you  to  remember  that  when 
Dame  Melusine  and  I  were  interrogated,  I  freely  con- 
fessed to  both  the  murder  of  King  Helmas  and  the  theft 
of  my  dead  master's  jewels.  In  that  I  lied.  For  it  was 
my  manifest  duty  to  save  the  woman  whom,  as  I  thought, 

[23] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

I  loved,  and  it  was  apparent  that  the  guilty  person  was 
either  she  or  I. 

"She  is  now  at  Brunbelois,  where,  as  I  have  heard, 
the  splendour  of  her  estate  is  tolerably  notorious.  I  have 
not  ever  heard  she  gave  a  thought  to  me,  her  cat's-paw. 
Madame,  when  I  think  of  you  and  then  of  that  sleek, 
smiling  woman,  I  am  appalled  by  my  own  folly.  I  am 
aghast  by  my  long  blindness  as  I  write  the  words  which 
no  one  will  believe.  For  what  need  now  to  deny  a  crime 
which  every  circumstance  imputed  to  me  and  my  own 
confession  has  publicly  acknowledged? 

"But  you,  I  think,  will  believe  me.  Look  you,  ma- 
dame,  I  have  nothing  to  gain  of  you.  I  shall  not  ever 
see  you  any  more.  I  go  into  a  perilous  and  an  eternal 
banishment;  and  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of 
death  a  man  finds  little  sustenance  for  romance.  Take 
the  worst  of  me :  a  gentleman  I  was  born,  and  as  a  was- 
trel I  have  lived,  and  always  very  foolishly ;  but  without 
dishonour.  I  have  never  to  my  knowledge — and  God 
judge  me  as  I  speak  the  truth! — wronged  any  man  or 
woman  save  myself.  My  dear,  believe  me!  believe  me, 
in  spite  of  reason !  and  understand  that  my  adoration  and 
misery  and  unworthiness  when  I  think  of  you  are  such 
as  I  cannot  measure,  and  afford  me  no  judicious  moment 
wherein  to  fashion  lies.  For  I  shall  not  see  you  any 
more. 

"I  thank  you,  madame,  for  your  all-unmerited  kind- 
nesses, and,  oh,  I  pray  you  to  believe !" 

[24] 


HOW  THE  BISHOP  AIDED  PERION 

THEN  at  three  o'clock,  as  Perion  supposed, 
some  one  tapped  upon  the  door.  Perion 
went  out  into  the  corridor,  which  was 
now  unlighted,  so  that  he  had  to  hold  to  the  cloak 
of  Ayrart  de  Montors  as  the  young  prelate  guided 
Perion  through  the  complexities  of  unfamiliar 
halls  and  stairways  into  an  inhospitable  night. 
There  were  here  two  horses,  and  presently  the 
men  were  mounted  and  away. 

Once  only  Perion  shifted  in  the  saddle  to  glance 
back  at  Bellegarde,  black  and  formless  against  an 
empty  sky ;  and  he  dared  not  look  again,  for  the 
thought  of  her  that  lay  awake  in  the  Marshal's 
Tower,  so  near  at  hand  as  yet,  was  like  a  dagger. 
With  set  teeth  he  followed  in  the  wake  of  his  taci- 
turn companion.  The  bishop  never  spoke  save  to 
growl  out  some  direction. 

Thus  they  came  to  Manneville  and  past  it  to 

[25] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Fomor  Beach,  a  narrow  sandy  coast.  It  was 
dark  in  this  place  and  very  still  save  for  the  en- 
croachment of  the  tide.  Yonder  were  four  little 
lights,  lazily  heaving  with  the  water's  motion,  to 
show  them  where  the  Tranchemer  lay  at  anchor. 
It  did  not  seem  to  Perion  that  anything  mattered. 

"It  will  be  nearing  dawn  by  this,"  he  said. 

"Ay,"  Ayrart  de  Montors  said,  very  briefly; 
and  his  tone  evinced  his  willingness  to  dispense 
with  any  further  conversation.  Perion  of  the 
Forest  was  an  unclean  thing  which  he  must  touch 
in  his  necessity,  but  could  touch  with  loathing 
only,  as  a  thirsty  man  takes  a  fly  out  of  his  drink. 
Perion  conceded  it,  because  nothing  would  ever 
matter  any  more ;  and  so,  the  horses  tethered,  they 
sat  upon  the  sand  in  utter  silence  for  the  space  of 
a  half  hour. 

A  bird  cried  somewhere,  just  once,  and  with  a 
start  Perion  knew  it  was  not  quite  so  murky  as  it 
had  been,  for  he  could  see  a  broken  line  of  white 
now  where  the  tide  crept  up  and  shattered  and 
ebbed.  Then  in  a  while  a  light  sank  tipsily  to  the 
water's  level  and  presently  was  bobbing  in  the 

[26] 


THE       BISHOP       AIDS       PERION 

darkness,  apart  from  those  other  lights,  and  ever 
growing  in  brilliancy. 

Said  Perion :     'They  have  sent  out  the  boat." 

"Ay,"  the  bishop  answered,  as  before. 

A  sort  of  madness  came  upon  Perion,  and  it 
seemed  that  he  must  weep,  because  everything 
fell  out  so  very  ill  in  this  world. 

"Messire,  you  have  aided  me.  I  would  be 
grateful  if  you  permitted  it." 

De  Montors  spoke  at  last,  and  crisply:  "Grat- 
itude, I  take  it,  forms  no  part  of  the  bargain.  I 
am  the  kinsman  of  Dame  Melicent.  It  makes  for 
my  interest  and  for  the  honour  of  our  house  that 
the  man  whose  rooms  she  visits  at  night  be  got 
out  of  Poictesme— 

Said  Perion:  "You  speak  in  this  fashion  of 
the  most  lovely  lady  God  has  made — of  her  whom 
the  world  adores !" 

"Adores !"  the  bishop  answered,  with  a  laugh ; 
"and  what  poor  gull  am  I  to  adore  an  attested 
wanton  ?"  Then,  with  a  sneer,  he  spoke  of  Meli- 
cent, and  in  such  terms  as  are  not  bettered  by 
repetition. 

[27] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Perion  said:  "I  am  the  most  unhappy  man 
alive,  as  surely  as  you  are  the  most  ungenerous. 
For,  look  you,  in  my  presence  you  have  spoken 
infamy  of  Dame  Melicent,  though  knowing  I  am 
in  your  debt  so  deeply  that  I  have  not  the  right  to 
resent  anything  you  may  elect  to  say.  You  have 
just  given  me  my  life;  and  armoured  by  the  fire- 
new  obligation,  you  blaspheme  an  angel,  you  con- 
descend to  buffet  a  fettered  man — "  And  with 
that  his  sluggish  wits  had  spied  an  honest  way  out 
of  the  imbroglio. 

Perion  said  only:  "Draw,  messire!  for,  as 
God  lives,  I  may  yet  repurchase,  though  at  the 
eleventh  hour,  the  privilege  of  destroying  you." 

"Heyday!  but  here  is  an  odd  evincement  of 
gratitude !"  de  Montors  retorted ;  "and  though  I 
am  not  particularly  squeamish,  let  me  tell  you,  my 
fine  fellow,  I  do  not  ordinarily  fight  with  lackeys." 

"Nor  are  you  fit  to  do  so,  messire.  Believe  me, 
there  is  not  a  lackey  in  the  realm — no,  not  a  cut- 
purse — but  would  degrade  himself  in  meeting  you 
on  equal  footing.  For  you  have  slandered  that 
which  is  most  perfect  in  the  world;  yet  lies,  Mes- 

[28] 


THE       BISHOP       AIDS       PERION 

sire  de  Montors,  have  short  legs;  and  I  design 
within  the  hour  to  insure  the  calumny  against  aa 
echo." 

"Rogue,  I  have  given  you  your  very  life  within 
the  hour — " 

"The  fact  is  undeniable.  So  I  must  fling  the 
bounty  back  to  you  that  we  may  meet  as  equals." 
Perion  wheeled  toward  the  boat,  which  was  now 
within  the  reach  of  wading.  "Who  is  among 
you?  Gaucelm,  Roger,  Jean  Britauz — "  He 
found  the  man  he  sought.  "Ahasuerus,  the  cap- 
tain that  was  to  have  accompanied  the  Free  Com- 
panions oversea  is  of  another  mind.  I  cede  my 
leadership  to  Landry  de  Bonnay.  You  will  have 
the  kindness,  if  I  may  make  so  bold,  to  inform  him 
of  the  unlooked-for  change,  and  to  tender  your 
new  captain  every  appropriate  regret  and  the  dy- 
ing felicitations  of  Perion  de  la  Foret." 

He  bowed  toward  the  landward  twilight,  where 
the  sand  hillocks  were  taking  form. 

"Messire  de  Montors,  we  may  now  resume  our 
vigil.  When  yonder  vessel  sails  there  will  be  no 
conceivable  happening  that  can  keep  breath  within 

[29] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

my  body  two  months  longer.  I  shall  be  quit  of 
every  debt  to  you.  You  will  then  fight  with  a 
man  already  dead  if  you  so  elect ;  but  otherwise — 
if  you  attempt  to  flee  this  place,  if  you  decline  to 
cross  swords  with  a  lackey,  with  a  convicted  thief, 
with  a  suspected  murderer,  I  swear  upon  my 
mother's  honour!  I  will  demolish  you  without 
compunction  as  I  would  any  other  vermin." 

"Oh,  brave,  brave!"  sneered  the  bishop,  "to 
fling  away  your  life,  and  perhaps  mine  too,  for  an 
idle  word—  But  at  that  he  fetched  a  sob. 
"How  foolish  of  you !  and  how  like  you !"  he  said, 
and  Perion  seemed  now  to  hear  the  voice  of 
Melicent. 

"Hey,  gentlemen!"  cried  Ayrart  de  Montors, 
"a  moment  if  you  please!"  He  splashed  knee- 
deep  into  the  icy  water,  wading  to  the  boat,  where 
he  snatched  the  lantern  from  the  Jew's  hands  and 
fetched  this  light  ashore.  He  held  it  aloft,  so 
that  Perion  might  see  his  face,  and  Perion  per- 
ceived that  by  some  wonder-working  it  was  Meli- 
cent in  man's  attire  who  held  this  light  aloft.  It 
was  odd  that  Perion  always  remembered  after- 

[30] 


THE       BISHOP       AIDS       PERION 

ward  most  clearly  of  all  the  loosened  wisp  of  hair 
the  wind  tossed  about  her  forehead. 

"Look  well  upon  me,  Perion,"  said  Melicent. 
"Look  well,  ruined  gentleman!  look  well,  poor 
hunted  vagabond !  and  note  how  proud  I  am.  Oh, 
in  all  things  I  am  very  proud !  A  little  I  exult  in 
my  high  station  and  in  my  wealth,  and,  yes,  even 
in  my  beauty,  for  I  know  that  I  am  beautiful,  but 
the  chief  of  all  my  honours  is  that  you  love  me — 
and  so  foolishly!" 

"You  do  not  understand — !"  cried  Perion. 

"Rather  I  understand  at  last  that  you  are  in 
sober  verity  a  lackey,  an  impostor,  and  a  thief, 
even  as  you  said.  Ay,  a  lackey  to  your  honour ! 
an  impostor  that  would  endeavour — and,  oh,  so 
very  vainly ! — to  impersonate  another's  baseness ! 
and  a  thief  that  has  stolen  another  person's  pun- 
ishment !  I  ask  no  questions ;  loving  means  trust- 
ing; but  I  would  like  to  kill  that  other  person  very, 
very  slowly.  I  ask  no  questions,  but  I  dare  to 
trust  the  man  I  know  of,  even  in  defiance  of  that 
man's  own  voice.  I  dare  protest  the  man  no 
thief,  but  in  all  things  a  madly  honourable  gentle- 

[30 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

man.  My  poor  bruised,  puzzled  boy,"  said  Meli- 
cent,  with  an  odd  mirthful  tenderness,  "how  came 
you  to  be  blundering  about  this  miry  world  of 
ours !  Only  be  very  good  for  my  sake  and  forget 
the  bitterness ;  what  does  it  matter  when  there  is 
happiness,  too?" 

He  answered  nothing,  but  it  was  not  because 
of  misery. 

"Come,  come,  will  you  not  even  help  me  into 
the  boat?"  said  Melicent.  She,  too,  was  glad. 


[321 


VI 

HOW    MELICENT   WEDDED   PERION 

THAT  may  not  be,  my  cousin." 
It  was  the  real  Bishop  of  Montors 
who  was  speaking.  His  company,  some 
fifteen  men  in  all,  had  ridden  up  in  the  noise- 
muffling  sand  while  Melicent  and  Perion  looked 
seaward.  The  bishop  was  clothed,  in  his  habitual 
fashion,  as  a  cavalier,  showing  in  nothing  as  a 
churchman.  He  sat  a-horseback  for  a  consider- 
able while,  looking  down  at  them,  smiling  and 
stroking  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  with  a  gold- 
fringed  glove.  It  was  now  dawn. 

"I  have  been  eavesdropping,"  the  bishop  said. 
His  voice  was  tender,  for  the  young  man  loved 
his  kinswoman  with  an  affection  second  only  to 
that  which  he  reserved  for  Ayrart  de  Montors. 
"Yes,  I  have  been  eavesdropping  for  an  instant, 
and  through  that  instant  I  seemed  to  see  the  heart 
of  every  woman  that  ever  lived ;  and  they  differed 

[33] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

only  as  stars  differ  on  a  fair  night  in  August. 
No  woman  ever  loved  a  man  except,  at  bottom, 
as  a  mother  loves  her  child :  let  him  elect  to  build 
a  nation  or  to  write  imperishable  verses  or  to 
take  purses  upon  the  highway,  and  she  will  only 
smile  to  note  how  breathlessly  the  boy  goes  about 
his  playing;  and  when  he  comes  back  to  her  with 
grimier  hands  she  is  a  little  sorry,  and,  if  she 
think  it  salutary,  will  pretend  to  be  angry.  Mean- 
while she  sets  about  the  quickest  way  to  cleanse 
him  and  to  heal  his  bruises.  ,  They  are  more  wise 
than  we,  and  at  the  bottom  of  their  hearts  they  pity 
us  more  stalwart  folk  whose  grosser  wits  require, 
to  be  quite  sure  of  anything,  a  mere  crass  proof 
of  it ;  and  always  they  make  us  better  by  indomita- 
bly believing  we  are  better  than  in  reality  a  man 
can  ever  be." 

Now  Ayrart  de  Montors  dismounted. 

"So  much  for  my  sermon.  For  the  rest, 
Messire  de  la  Foret,  I  perfectly  recognised  you  on 
the  first  day  you  came  to  Bellegarde.  But  I  said 
nothing.  For  that  you  had  not  murdered  King 
Helmas,  as  is  popularly  reported,  I  was  certain, 

[34] 


MELICENT        WEDS        PERION 

inasmuch  as  I  happen  to  know  that  he  is  now  at 
Brunbelois,  where  Dame  Melusine  holds  his  per- 
son and  his  treasury.  A  terrible,  delicious 
woman!  begotten  on  a  water-demon,  people  say. 
I  ask  no  questions.  She  is  a  close  and  useful 
friend  to  me,  and  through  her  aid  I  hope  to  go  far. 
You  see  that  I  am  frank.  It  is  my  nature."  The 
bishop  shrugged.  "In  a  phrase,  I  accepted  the 
Vicomte  de  Puysange,  although  it  was  necessary, 
of  course,  to  keep  an  eye  upon  your  comings  in 
and  your  goings  out,  as  you  now  see.  And  until 
this  the  imposture  amused  me.  But  this" — his 
hand  waved  toward  the  Tranchemer — "this,  my 
fair  friends,  is  past  a  jest." 

"You  talk  and  talk,"  cried  Perion,  "and  I  only 
realise  that  I  love  the  fairest  lady  who  at  any 
time  has  had  life  upon  earth." 

"The  proof  of  your  affection,"  the  bishop  re- 
turned, "is,  if  you  will  permit  the  observation, 
somewhat  extraordinary.  For  you  propose,  I 
gather,  to  make  of  her  a  camp-follower,  a  soldier's 
drab.  Come,  come,  messire!  you  and  I  are  con- 
versant with  warfare  as  it  is.  Armies  do  not  con- 

[35] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

duct  it  by  throwing  sugar-candy  at  one  another. 
What  home  have  you,  a  landless  man,  to  offer 
Melicent?  What  place  is  there  for  Melicent 
among  your  Free  Companions?" 

"Oh,  do  I  not  know  that!"  said  Perion.  He 
turned  to  Melicent,  and  long  and  long  they  gazed 
upon  each  other. 

"Ignoble  as  I  am,"  said  Perion,  "I  never 
dreamed  to  squire  an  angel  down  toward  the  mire 
and  filth  which  for  a  while  as  yet  must  be  my 
kennel.  I  go.  I  go  alone.  Do  you  bid  me  re- 
turn?" 

The  girl  was  perfectly  calm.  She  took  a  ring 
of  diamonds  from  her  hand,  and  placed  it  on  his 
little  finger,  because  the  others  were  too  large. 

"While  life  endures  I  pledge  you  faith  and 
service,  Perion.  There  is  no  need  to  speak  of 
love." 

"There  is  no  need,"  he  answered.  "Oh,  does 
God  think  that  I  will  live  without  you !" 

"I  suppose  they  will  give  me  to  King  Theo- 
doret.  The  terrible  old  man  has  set  my  body  as 
the  only  price  that  will  buy  him  off  from  ravaging 

[36] 


MELICENT       WEDS       PERION 

Poictesme,  and  he  is  stronger  in  the  field  than 
Emmerick.  Emmerick  is  afraid  of  him,  and 
Ayrart  here  has  need  of  his  friendship  in  order 
to  become  a  cardinal.  So  my  kinsmen  must  make 
traffic  of  my  eyes  and  lips  and  hair.  But  first  I 
wed  you,  Perion,  here  in  the  sight  of  God,  and 
I  bid  you  return  to  me,  your  wife  and  servitor  for 
ever  now,  whatever  men  may  do." 

"I  will  return/'  he  said. 

Then  in  a  little  while  she  withdrew  her  lips  from 
his  lips. 

"Cover  my  face,  Ayrart.  It  may  be  I  shall 
weep  presently.  Men  must  not  see  the  wife  of 
Perion  weep.  Cover  my  face,  for  he  is  going 
now,  and  I  cannot  watch  his  going." 


[37] 


PART  TWO 
MELICENT 

Of  how  through  love  is  Melicent  upcast 
Under  a  heathen  castle  at  the  last: 
And  how  a  wicked  lord  of  proud  degree, 
Demetrios,  dwelleth  in  this  country, 
Where  humbled  under  him  are  all  mankind: 
How  to  this  wretched  woman  he  hath  mind, 
That  fallen  is  in  pagan  lands  alone, 
In  point  to  die,  as  presently  is  shown. 


HOW  MELICENT  SOUGHT  PERION  OVERSEA 

IT  is  a  tale  which  they  narrate  in  Poictesme, 
telling  how  love  began  between  Perion  of 
the  Forest,  who  was  a  captain  of  mercenaries, 
and  young  Melicent,  who  was  sister  to  Count  Em- 
merick  of  Poictesme.  They  tell  also  how  these 
two  parted,  since  there  was  no  remedy,  and  policy 
demanded  she  should  wed  King  Theodoret. 

And  the  tale  tells  how  Perion  sailed  with  his 
retainers  to  seek  desperate  service  under  the  har- 
ried Kaiser  of  the  Greeks. 

This  venture  was  ill-fated,  since,  as  the  Free 
Companions  were  passing  not  far  from  Masillia, 
their  vessel  being  at  the  time  becalmed,  they  were 
attacked  by  three  pagan  galleys  under  the 
admiralty  of  the  proconsul  Demetrios*  For  Pe- 
rion's  men,  who  fought  so  hardily  on  land,  were 
novices  at  sea.  They  were  powerless  against  an 
adversary  who,  from  a  great  distance,  showered 
liquid  fire  upon  their  vessel. 

[41] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Then  Demetrios  sent  little  boats  and  took  some 
thirty  prisoners  from  the  blazing  ship,  and  made 
slaves  of  all  save  Ahasuerus  the  Jew,  whom  he 
released  on  being  informed  of  the  lean  man's  re- 
ligion. It  was  a  customary  boast  of  this  Deme- 
trios that  he  made  war  on  Christians  only. 

And  presently,  as  Perion  had  commanded, 
Ahasuerus  came  to  Melicent. 

The  princess  sat  in  a  high  chair,  the  back  of 
which  was  capped  with  a  big  lion's  head  in  brass. 
It  gleamed  above  her  head,  but  was  less  glorious 
than  her  bright  hair. 

Ahasuerus  made  dispassionate  report.  "Thus 
painfully  I  have  delivered,  as  my  task  was,  these 
fine  messages  concerning  Faith  and  Love  and 
Death  and  so  on.  Touching  their  rationality  I  may 
reserve  my  own  opinion.  I  am  merely  Perion's 
echo.  Do  I  echo  madness?  This  madman  was 
my  loved  and  honored  master  once,  a  lord  without 
any  peer  in  the  fields  where  men  contend  in  battle. 
To-day  those  sinews  which  preserved  a  throne  are 
dedicated  to  the  transportation  of  luggage.  Grant 
it  is  laughable.  I  do  not  laugh." 

[42] 


"Demetrios  sent  little  boats' 


MELICENT       SEEKS       PERION 

"And  I  lack  time  to  weep/'  said  Melicent. 

So,  when  the  Jew  had  told  his  tale  and  gone, 
young  Melicent  arose  and  went  into  a  chamber 
painted  with  the  histories  of  Jason  and  Medea, 
where  her  brother  Count  Emmerick  hid  many 
jewels,  such  as  had  not  their  fellows  in  Christen- 
dom. 

She  did  not  hesitate.  She  knew  that  Perion 
was  in  captivity  and  might  not  look  for  aid  from 
any  person  living  save  herself. 

She  gathered  in  a  blue  napkin  such  emeralds 
as  would  ransom  a  pope.  She  cut  short  her  mar- 
vellous hair  and  disguised  herself  in  all  things 
as  a  man,  and  under  cover  of  the  ensuing  night 
slipped  from  the  castle.  At  Manneville  she  found 
a  Venetian  ship  bound  homeward  with  a  cargo  of 
swords  and  armour. 

She  hired  herself  to  the  captain  of  this  vessel 
as  a  servant,  calling  herself  Jocelin  Gaignars. 
She  found  no  time  wherein  to  be  afraid  or  to 
grieve  for  the  estate  she  was  relinquishing,  so 
long  as  Perion  lay  in  danger. 

Thus  the  young  Jocelin,  though  not  without 

[43] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

much  hardship  and  odd  by-ends  of  adventure  here 
irrelevant,  came  with  time's  course  into  a  land 
of  sunlight  and  much  wickedness  where  Perion 
was. 

There  the  boy  found  in  what  fashion  Perion  was 
living  and  won  the  dearly  purchased  misery  of 
seeing  him,  from  afar,  in  his  deplorable  condition, 
as  Perion  went  through  the  outer  yard  of  Nacu- 
mera  laden  with  chains  and  carrying  great  logs 
toward  the  kitchen.  This  befell  when  Jocelin  had 
come  into  the  hill  country,  where  the  eyrie  of 
Demetrios  blocked  a  crag-hung  valley  as  snugly 
as  a  stone  chokes  a  gutter-pipe. 

Young  Jocelin  had  begged  an  audience  of  this 
heathen  lord  and  had  obtained  it — though  Jocelin 
did  not  know  as  much — with  ominous  facility. 


[44] 


II 

HOW    MELICENT   BARGAINED 

DEMETRIOS  lay  on  a  divan  within  the 
Court  of  Stars,  through  which  you 
passed  from  the  fortress  into  the  Wom- 
en's Garden  and  the  luxurious  prison  where  he 
kept  his  wives.  This  court  was  circular  in  form 
and  was  paved  with  red  and  yellow  slabs,  laid  al- 
ternately, like  a  chess-board.  In  the  centre  was 
a  fountain,  which  cast  up  a  tall  thin  jet  of  water. 
A  gallery  extended  around  the  place,  supported  by 
columns  that  had  been  painted  scarlet  and  were 
gilded  with  fantastic  designs.  The  walls  were 
of  the  colour  of  claret  and  were  adorned  with 
golden  cinquefoils  regularly  placed.  From  a  dis- 
tance they  resembled  stars,  and  so  gave  the  en- 
closure its  name. 

Demetrios  lay  upon  a  long  divan  which  was 
covered  with  crimson  and  encircled  the  court  en- 
tirely, save  for  the  apertures  of  its  two  entrances. 

[45] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Demetrios  was  of  burly  person,  which  he  by  or- 
dinary, as  to-day,  adorned  resplendently ;  of  a 
stature  little  above  the  common  size,  and  dispro- 
portionately broad  as  to  his  chest  and  shoulders. 
It  was  rumoured  that  he  could  bore  an  apple 
through  with  his  forefinger  and  had  once  killed 
a  refractory  horse  with  a  blow  of  his  naked  fist; 
nor  looking  on  the  man,  did  you  presume  to  ques- 
tion the  report.  His  eyes  were  large  and  inso- 
lent, coloured  like  onyxes ;  and  for  the  rest,  he  had 
a  handsome  surly  face  which  was  disfigured  by 
pimples. 

He  did  not  speak  at  all  while  Jocelin  explained 
his  errand  was  to  ramson  Perion.  Then,  "At 
what  price  ?"  Demetrios  said,  without  any  sign  of 
interest ;  and  Jocelin,  with  many  encomiums,  dis- 
played his  emeralds. 

"Ay,  they  are  well  enough,"  Demetrios  agreed. 
"But  then  I  have  a  superfluity  of  jewels." 

He  raised  himself  a  little  among  the  cushions, 
and  in  this  moving  the  figured  golden  stuff  in 
which  he  was  clothed  heaved  and  glittered  like 
the  scales  of  a  splendid  monster.  He  leisurely 

[46] 


NOW      MELICENT      BARGAINS 

unfastened  the  great  chrysoberyl,  big  as  a  hen's 
egg,  which  adorned  his  fillet. 

"Look  you,  this  is  of  a  far  more  beautiful  green 
than  any  of  your  trinkets.  I  think  it  is  as  valua- 
ble also,  because  of  its  huge  size.  Moreover,  it 
turns  red  by  lamplight — red  as  blood.  That  is  an 
admirable  colour.  And  yet  I  do  not  value  it.  I 
think  I  do  not  value  anything.  So  I  will  make 
you  a  gift  of  this  big  coloured  pebble,  if  you  desire 
it,  because  your  ignorance  amuses  me.  Most  peo- 
ple know  Demetrios  is  not  a  merchant.  He  does 
not  buy  and  sell.  That  which  he  has  he  keeps, 
and  that  which  he  desires  he  takes." 

The  boy  was  all  despair.  He  did  not  speak. 
He  was  very  handsome  as  he  stood  in  that  still 
place  where  everything  excepting  him  was  red  and 
gold. 

"You  do  not  value  my  poor  chrysoberyl?  You 
value  your  friend  more  ?  It  is  a  page  out  of  Theo- 
critos — 'when  there  were  golden  men  of  old,  when 
friends  gave  love  for  love/  And  yet  I  could  have 
sworn —  Come  now,  a  wager,"  purred  Deme- 
trios. "Show  your  contempt  of  this  bauble  to 

[47] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

be  as  great  as  mine  by  throwing  it,  say,  into  the 
gallery,  for  the  next  passer-by  to  pick  up,  and  I 
will  credit  your  sincerity.  Do  that  and  I  will  even 
name  my  price  for  Perion." 

The  boy  obeyed  him  without  hesitation.  Turn- 
ing, he  saw  the  horrid  change  in  the  intent  eyes 
of  Demetrios,  and  he  quailed  before  it.  But  in- 
stantly that  flare  of  passion  flickered  out. 

Demetrios  gently  said :  "A  bargain  is  a  bar- 
gain. My  wives  are  beautiful,  but  their  caresses 
annoy  me  as  much  as  formerly  they  pleased  me. 
I  have  long  thought  it  would  perhaps  amuse  me 
if  I  had  a  Christian  wife  with  eyes  like  violets 
and  hair  like  gold  and  of  a  plump  white  person. 
A  man  tires  very  soon  of  ebony  and  amber.  .  .  . 
Procure  me  such  a  wife  and  I  will  willingly  re- 
lease this  Perion  and  all  his  fellows  who  are  yet 
alive." 

"But,  seignior," — and  the  boy  was  shaken  now 
— "you  demand  of  me  an  impossibility !" 

"I  am  so  hardy  as  to  think  not.  And  my  rea- 
son is  that  a  man  throws  from  the  elbow  only,  but 
a  woman  with  her  whole  arm." 

[48] 


NOW      MELICENT      BARGAINS 

There  fell  a  silence  now. 

"Why,  look  you,  I  deal  fairly,  though.  Were 
such  a  woman  here — Demetrios  of  Anatolia's 
guest — I  verily  believe  I  would  not  hinder  her  de- 
parture, as  I  might  easily  do.  For  there  is  not 
a  person  within  many  miles  of  this  place  who  con- 
siders it  wholesome  to  withstand  me.  Yet  were 
this  woman  purchasable,  I  would  purchase.  And 
— if  she  refused — I  would  not  hinder  her  depar- 
ture ;  but  very  certainly  I  would  put  Perion  to  the 
Torment  of  the  Water-drops.  It  is  so  droll  to 
see  a  man  go  mad  before  your  eyes,  I  think  that 
I  would  laugh  and  quite  forget  the  woman." 

She  said :     "O  God,  I  cry  to  You  for  justice !" 

He  answered:  "My  good  girl,  in  Nacumera 
the  wishes  of  Demetrios  are  justice.  But  we 
waste  time.  You  desire  to  purchase  one  of  my 
belongings  ?  So  be  it.  I  will  hear  your  offer." 

Just  once  her  hands  had  gripped  each  other. 
Her  arms  fell  now  as  if  they  had  been  drained  of 
life.  She  spoke  in  a  dull  voice. 

"I  offer  Melicent  who  was  a  princess.  I  cry 
a  price  for  red  lips  and  bright  eyes  and  a  fair 

[49] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

woman's  tender  body  without  any  blemish.    I  cry 

a  price  for  youth  and  happiness  and  honour. 

These  you  may  have  for  playthings,  seignior,  with 

everything  which  I  possess,  except  my  heart,  for 

that  is  dead." 

Demetrios  asked :     "Is  this  true  speech  ?" 

She  answered:     "It  is  as  sure  as  Love  and 

Death.     I  know  that  nothing  is  more  sure  than 

these,  and  I  praise  God  for  it." 

He  chuckled,  saying:     "Platitudes  break  no 

bones." 


[50] 


Ill 

HOW    PERION    WAS   FREED 

ON  the  next  day  the  chains  were  filed  from 
Perion  de  la  Foret  and  all  his  fellows, 
save  the  nine  unfortunates  whom  Deme- 
trios  had  appointed  to  fight  with  lions  a  month 
before  this,  when  he  had  entertained  the  Soldan 
of  Bacharia.     These  men  were  bathed  and  per- 
fumed and  richly  clad. 

A  galley  of  the  proconsul's  fleet  conveyed  them 
toward  Christendom  and  set  the  twoscore  slaves 
of  yesterday  ashore  not  far  from  Megaris.  The 
captain  of  the  galley  on  departure  left  with  Perion 
a  blue  napkin,  wherein  were  wrapped  large  em- 
eralds and  a  bit  of  parchment  as  well. 
It  read: 

"Not  these,  but  the  body  of  Melicent,  who  was 
once  a  princess,  purchased  your  bodies.  Yet  these  will 
buy  you  ships  and  men  and  swords  with  which  to  storm 
my  house  where  Melicent  now  is.  Come  if  you  will 
and  fight  with  Demetrios  of  Anatolia  for  that  brave  girl 

[so 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

who  loved  a  porter  as  all  loyal  men  should  love  their 
Maker  and  customarily  do  not.  I  think  it  would  amuse 
us." 

Then  Perion  stood  by  the  languid  sea  which 
severed  him  from  Melicent  and  cried:  "O  God, 
that  hast  permitted  this  hard  bargain,  trade  now 
with  me !  now  barter  with  me,  O  Father  of  us  all ! 
That  which  a  man  has  I  will  give." 

He  stood  in  the  clear  sunlight  with  no  more 
wavering  in  his  face  than  you  may  find  in  the 
next  statue's.  Both  hands  strained  toward  the 
blue  sky,  as  though  he  made  a  vow.  If  so,  he  did 
not  break  it. 

And  now  no  more  of  Perion. 

At  the  same  hour  young  Melicent,  wrapped  all 
about  with  a  flame-coloured  veil  and  crowned  with 
majoram,  was  led  by  a  spruce  boy  toward  a 
threshold,  over  which  Demetrios  lifted  her,  while 
many  people  sang  in  a  strange  tongue.  And  then 
she  paid  her  pitiable  ransom. 

"Hymen,  O  Hymen!"  they  sang.  "Do  thou  of 
many  names  and  many  temples,  golden  Aphrodite, 
be  propitious  to  this  bridal!  Now  let  him  first 

[52] 


NOW      PERION      IS      FREED 

compute  the  glittering  stars  of  midnight  and  the 
grasshoppers  of  a  summer  day  who  would  count 
the  joys  this  bridal  shall  bring  about !  Hymen,  O 
Hymen,  rejoice  thou  in  this  bridal !" 


[53] 


IV 

HOW   DEMETRIOS  WAS   AMUSED 

NOW  Melicent  abode  in  the  house  of  Deme- 
trios,  whom  she  had  not  seen  since  the 
morning  after  he  had  wedded  her.     A 
month  had  passed.     As  yet  she  could  not  under- 
stand the  language  of  her  fellow  prisoners,  but 
Halaon,  a  eunuch  who  had  once  served  a  cardinal 
in  Tuscany,  informed  her  the  proconsul  was  in  the 
West  Provinces,  where  an  invading  force  had 
landed  under  Ranulph  de  Meschines. 

A  month  had  passed.  She  woke  one  night  from 
dreams  of  Perion — what  else  should  women  dream 
of? — and  found  the  same  Ahasuerus  that  had 
brought  her  news  of  Perion's  captivity,  so  long 
ago,  attendant  at  her  bedside. 

He  seemed  a  prey  to  some  half-scornful  mirth. 
In  speech,  at  least,  the  man  was  of  entire  discre- 
tion. "The  Splendour  of  the  World  desires  your 
presence,  madame."  Thus  the  Jew  blandly  spoke. 

[54] 


DEMETRIOS      IS      AMUSED 

She  cried,  aghast  at  so  much  treachery,  "You 
had  planned  this !" 

He  answered:  "I  plan  always.  Oh,  cer- 
tainly, I  must  weave  always  as  the  spider  does. 
.  .  .  Meanwhile  time  passes.  I,  like  you,  am  now 
the  servitor  of  Demetrios.  I  am  his  factor  now 
at  Calonak.  I  buy  and  sell.  I  estimate  ounces. 
I  earn  my  wages.  Who  forbids  it?"  Here  the 
Jew  shrugged.  "And  to  conclude,  the  Splen- 
dour of  the  World  desires  your  presence, 
madame." 

He  seemed  to  get  much  joy  of  this  mouth-filling 
periphrasis  as  sneeringly  he  spoke  of  their  com- 
mon master. 

Now  Melicent,  in  a  loose  robe  of  green  Coan 
stuff  shot  through  and  through  with  a  radiancy 
like  that  of  copper,  followed  the  thin,  smiling  Jew 
Ahasuerus.  She  came  thus  with  bare  feet  into 
the  Court  of  Stars,  where  the  proconsul  lay  on  the 
divan  as  though  he  had  not  ever  moved  from  there. 
But  to-night  he  was  clothed  in  scarlet,  and  bar- 
baric ornaments  dangled  from  his  pierced  ears. 

[55] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

These  glittered  now  that  his  head  moved  a  little 
as  he  silently  dismissed  Ahasuerus  from  the  Court 
of  Stars. 

Real  stars  were  overhead,  so  brilliant  and  (it 
seemed)  so  near  they  turned  the  fountain's  jet 
into  a  spurt  of  melting  silver.  The  moon  was  set, 
but  there  was  a  flaring  lamp  of  iron  high  as  a 
man's  shoulder  yonder  where  Demetrios  lay. 

"Stand  close  to  it,  my  wife/'  said  the  proconsul, 
"in  order  I  may  see  my  newest  purchase  very 
clearly."  She  obeyed  him ;  and  esteemed  the  sac- 
rifice, however  unendurable,  which  bought  for 
Perion  the  chance  to  serve  God  and  his  love  for 
her  by  valorous  and  commendable  actions  to  be  no 
cause  for  grief. 

"I  think  with  those  old  men  who  sat  upon  the 
walls  of  Troy,"  Demetrios  said,  and  laughed  be- 
cause his  voice  had  shaken  so.  "Meanwhile  I  have 
returned  from  crucifying  a  hundred  of  your  fel- 
low worshippers,"  Demetrios  continued.  His 
speech  had  an  odd  sweetness.  "Ey,  yes,  I  con- 
quered at  Yroga.  It  was  a  good  fight.  My 
horse's  hoofs  were  red  at  its  conclusion.  My  sur- 

[56] 


DEMETRIOS      IS      AMUSED 

viving  opponents  I  consider  to  have  been  deplora- 
ble fools  when  they  surrendered,  for  people  die 
less  painfully  in  battle.  There  was  one  fellow,  a 
Franciscan  monk,  who  hung  six  hours  upon  a 
palm  tree,  always  turning  his  head  from  one  side 
to  the  other.  It  was  amusing/' 

She  answered  nothing. 

"And  I  was  wondering  always  how  I  would 
feel  were  you  nailed  in  his  place.  It  was  curious 
I  should  have  thought  of  you.  .  .  .  But  your 
white  flesh  is  like  the  petals  of  a  flower.  I  sup- 
pose it  is  as  readily  destructible.  I  think  you 
would  not  long  endure." 

"I  pray  God  hourly  that  I  may  not !"  said  tense 
Melicent. 

He  was  a  little  pleased  to  have  wrung  even  one 
cry  of  anguish  from  this  lovely  effigy.  He  mo- 
tioned her  to  him  and  laid  one  hand  upon  her 
naked  breast.  He  gave  a  gesture  of  distaste. 
"No,  you  are  not  afraid.  However,  you  are  very 
beautiful.  I  thought  that  you  would  please  me 
more  when  your  gold  hair  had  grown  a  trifle 
longer.  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  so  beauti- 

[57] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

ful  as  golden  hair.  Its  beauty  weathers  even  the 
commendation  of  poets." 

No  power  of  motion  seemed  to  be  in  this  white 
girl,  but  certainly  you  could  detect  no  fear.  Her 
clinging  robe  shone  like  an  opal  in  the  lamplight, 
and  her  face  was  very  fair.  Her  eyes  implored 
you,  but  only  as  those  of  a  trapped  animal  beseech 
the  mercy  it  does  not  really  hope  for. 

In  the  man's  heart  woke  now  some  comprehen- 
sion of  the  nature  of  her  love  for  Perion,  of  that 
high  and  alien  madness  which  dared  to  make  of 
Demetrios  of  Anatolia's  will  an  unavoidable  dis- 
comfort, and  no  more.  The  prospect  was  allur- 
ing. The  proconsul  began  to  chuckle  as  water 
pours  from  a  jar,  and  the  gold  in  his  ears  twinkled. 

"Decidedly  I  shall  get  much  mirth  of  you.  Go 
back  to  your  own  rooms.  I  had  thought  the  world 
afforded  no  adversary  and  no  game  worthy  of 
Demetrios.  I  have  found  both.  Therefore,  go 
back  to  your  own  rooms,"  he  gently  said. 


[58] 


HOW    THE   TIME   SPED    IN    HEATHENRY 

ON  the  next  day  Melicent  was  removed 
to  more  magnificent  apartments,  and 
lodged  in  a  lofty  and  spacious  pavilion, 
having  three  porticoes  builded  of  marble  and 
carved  teakwood  and  Andalusian  copper.  Her 
rooms  were  spread  with  gold-worked  carpets  and 
hung  with  tapestries  and  brocaded  silks  figured 
with  all  manner  of  beasts  and  birds  in  their  proper 
colors.  Such  was  the  girl's  home  now,  where 
only  happiness  was  denied  to  her.  Many  slaves 
attended  Melicent,  and  she  lacked  for  nothing  in 
luxury  and  riches  and  things  of  price ;  and  there- 
after she  abode  at  Nacumera,  to  all  appearances, 
as  the  favorite  among  the  proconsul's  wives. 

It  must  be  recorded  of  Demetrios  that  hence- 
forth he  scrupulously  demurred  even  to  touch  her 
hand.  "I  have  purchased  your  body,"  he  proudly 
said,  "and  I  have  taken  seizin.  I  find  I  do  not 
care  for  anything  which  can  be  purchased." 

[59] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

It  may  be  that  the  man  was  never  sane;  it  is 
indisputable  that  the  mainspring  of  his  least  ac- 
tion was  an  inordinate  pride.  Here  he  had 
stumbled  upon  something  which  made  of  Deme- 
trios  of  Anatolia  a  temporary  discomfort,  and 
which  bedwarfed  the  utmost  reach  of  his  ill-doing 
into  equality  with  the  molestations  of  a  house-fly; 
and  perception  of  this  fact  worked  in  Demetrios 
like  a  poisonous  ferment.  To  beg  or  once  again 
to  pillage  he  thought  equally  unworthy  of  himself. 
"Let  us  have  patience."  It  was  not  easily  said  so 
long  as  this  fair  Frankish  woman  dared  to  enter- 
tain a  passion  which  Demetrios  could  not  compre- 
hend, and  of  which  Demetrios  was,  and  knew  him- 
self to  be,  incapable. 

A  connoisseur  of  passions,  he  resented  such  be- 
littlement  tempestuously;  and  he  heaped  every 
luxury  upon  Melicent,  because  as  he  assured  him- 
self, the  heart  of  every  woman  is  alike. 

He  had  his  theories,  his  cunning,  and,  chief  of 
all,  an  appreciation  of  her  beauty,  as  his  abettors. 
She  had  her  memories  and  her  clean  heart.  They 
duelled  thus  accoutred. 

[60] 


NOW     THE     TIME     SPEEDS 

Meanwhile  his  other  wives  peered  from 
screened  alcoves  at  these  two  and  duly  hated  Meli- 
cent.  Upon  no  less  than  three  occasions  did  Cal- 
listion — the  first  wife  of  the  proconsul  and  the 
mother  of  his  elder  son — attempt  the  life  of  Meli- 
cent;  and  thrice  Demetrios  spared  the  woman  at 
Melicent/s  entreaty.  For  Melicent  (since  she 
loved  Per  ion)  could  understand  that  it  was  love 
of  Demetrios,  rather  than  hate  of  her,  which 
drove  the  Dacian  virago  to  extremities. 


[61] 


VI 

HOW   FLAMBERGE  WAS   DRAWN 

ONE  day  about  noon  Demetrios  came  un- 
heralded into  Melicent's  resplendent 
prison.  Through  an  aisle  of  painted 
pillars  he  came  to  her,  striding  with  unwonted 
quickness,  glittering  as  he  moved.  His  robe  this 
day  was  scarlet,  the  colour  he  chiefly  affected. 
Gold  glowed  upon  his  forehead,  gold  dangled  from 
his  ears,  and  about  his  throat  was  a  broad  collar 
of  gold  and  rubies.  At  his  side  was  a  cross- 
handled  sword  in  a  scabbard  of  blue  leather  curi- 
ously ornamented. 

"Give  thanks,  my  wife,"  Demetrios  said,  "that 
you  are  beautiful.  For  beauty  was  ever  the  spur 
of  valour."  Then  quickly,  joyously,  he  told  her 
of  how  a  fleet  of  King  Theodoret's  had  been  de- 
spatched against  his  province  and  of  how  among 
the  invaders  were  Perion  of  the  Forest  and  his 
Free  Companions.  "Ey,  yes,  my  porter  has  re- 

[62] 


FLAMBERGE       IS       DRAWN 

turned.  I  ride  instantly  for  the  coast  to  greet  him 
with  appropriate  welcome.  I  pray  heaven  it  is  no 
sluggard  or  weakling  that  is  come  out  against 


me." 


Proudly  Melicent  replied:  "There  comes 
against  you  a  champion  of  noted  deeds,  a  courte- 
ous and  hardy  gentleman,  pre-eminent  at  sword- 
play.  There  was  never  any  man  more  ready 
than  Perion  to  break  a  lance  or  shatter  a  shield, 
or  more  eager  to  succour  the  helpless  and  put  to 
shame  all  cowards  and  traitors." 

Demetrios  dryly  said :  "I  do  not  question  that 
the  virtues  of  my  porter  are  innumerable.  There- 
fore we  will  not  attempt  to  catalogue  them.  Now 
Ahasuerus  reports  that  even  before  you  came  to 
tempt  me  with  your  paltry  emeralds  you  once 
held  the  life  of  Perion  in  your  hands?"  Deme- 
trios unfastened  his  sword.  He  grasped  the  hand 
of  Melicent,  and  laid  it  upon  the  scabbard.  "And 
what  do  you  hold  now,  my  wife?  You  hold  the 
death  of  Perion.  I  take  the  antithesis  to  be  a 
neat  one." 

She  answered  nothing.     Her  seeming  indiffer- 


THE       SOUL       OF       M  E  L  I  C  E  N  T 

ence  angered  him.  Demetrios  wrenched  the 
sword  from  its  scabbard,  with  a  hard  violence 
that  made  Melicent  recoil.  He  showed  the  blade 
all  covered  with  grey  symbols  of  which  she  could 
make  nothing. 

"This  is  Flamberge,"  said  the  proconsul;  "the 
sword  which  Galas  made  in  our  forefathers'  hey- 
day for  Charlemaigne.  Clerks  declare  it  is  a 
magic  weapon  and  that  the  man  who  wields  it 
is  unconquerable.  I  do  not  know.  I  think  it  is 
as  difficult  to  believe  in  sorcery  as  it  is  to  be  en- 
tirely sure  of  its  non-existence.  I  very  potently 
believe,  however,  that  with  this  sword  I  shall  kill 
Perion." 

Melicent  had  plenty  of  patience,  but  astonish- 
ingly little,  it  seemed,  for  this  sort  of  speech.  "I 
think  that  you  talk  foolishly,  seignior.  And, 
other  matters  apart,  it  is  manifest  that  you  your- 
self concede  Perion  to  be  the  better  swordsman, 
since  you  require  to  be  abetted  by  sorcery  before 
you  dare  to  face  him." 

"So,  so !"  Demetrios  said,  in  a  sort  of  grinding 


FLAMBERGE       IS       DRAWN 

whisper,  "you  think  that  I  am  not  the  equal  of 
this  long-legged  fellow !  You  would  think  other- 
wise if  I  had  him  here.  You  will  think  other- 
wise when  I  have  killed  him  with  my  naked  hands. 
Oh,  very  soon  you  will  think  otherwise." 

He  snarled,  rage  choking  him,  flung  the  sword 
at  her  feet  and  quitted  her  without  any  leave- 
taking.  He  had  ridden  three  miles  from  Nacu- 
mera  before  he  began  to  laugh.  He  realised  that 
Melicent  at  least  believed  in  sorcery  and  had 
tricked  him  out  of  Flamberge  by  playing  upon 
his  tetchy  vanity.  Her  adroitness  pleased  him. 

Demetrios  did  not  laugh  when  he  found  Theo- 
doret's  fleet  had  been  ingloriously  repulsed  at  sea 
by  the  Emir  of  Arsuf  and  had  never  effected  a 
landing.  Demetrios  picked  a  quarrel  with  the 
victorious  admiral  and  killed  the  marplot  in  a 
public  duel,  but  that  was  inadequate  comfort. 

"However,"  the  proconsul  reassured  himself, 
"if  my  wife  reports  at  all  truthfully  as  to  this 
Perion's  nature  it  is  certain  that  this  Perion  will 
come  again."  Then  Demetrios  went  into  the  sa- 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

cred  grove  upon  the  hillsides  south  of  Quesiton 
and  made  an  offering  of  myrtle-branches,  rose- 
leaves  and  incense  to  Aphrodite  of  Colias. 


[66] 


VII 

HOW   AHASUERUS   WAS   PATIENT 

AHASUERUS  came  and  went  at  will. 
Nothing  was  known  concerning  this 
soft-treading  furtive  man  except  by  the 
proconsul,  who  had  no  confidants.  By  his  de- 
cree Ahasuerus  was  an  honoured  guest  at  Nacu- 
mera.  And  always  the  Jew's  eyes  when  Meli- 
cent  was  near  him  were  as  expressionless  as  the 
eyes  of  a  snake,  which  do  not  ever  change. 

Once  she  told  Demetrios  that  she  feared  Ahasu- 
erus. 

"But  I  do  not  fear  him,  though  I  have  larger 
reason.  For  I  alone  of  all  men  living  know  the 
truth  concerning  this  same  Jew.  Therefore,  it 
amuses  me  to  think  he  is  my  factor  and  ciphers 
over  my  accounts." 

Demetrios  laughed,  and  had  the  Jew  sum- 
moned. This  was  in  the  Women's  Garden,  where 
the  proconsul  sat  with  Melicent  in  a  little  domed 
pavilion  of  stone-work  which  was  gilded  with  red 

[67] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

gold  and  crowned  with  a  cupola  of  alabaster.  Its 
pavement  was  of  transparent  glass,  under  which 
were  clear  running  waters  wherein  swam  red  and 
yellow  fish. 

"It  appears  that  you  are  a  formidable  person, 
Ahasuerus.  My  wife  here  fears  you." 

"Splendour  of  the  Age,"  returned  the  other, 
quietly,  "it  is  notorious  that  women  have  long  hair 
and  short  wits.  There  is  no  need  to  fear  a  Jew. 
The  Jew,  I  take  it,  was  created  in  order  that  chil- 
dren might  evince  their  playfulness  by  stoning 
him,  the  honest  show  their  common  sense  by  rob- 
bing him,  and  the  religious  display  their  piety  by 
burning  him.  Who  forbids  it?" 

"Ey,  but  my  wife  is  a  Christian  and  in  conse- 
quence worships  a  Jew."     Demetrios  reflected. 
His  dark  eyes  twinkled.     "What  is  your  opinion 
concerning  this  other  Jew,  Ahasuerus  ?" 
"I  know  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  Lord." 
"And  yet  you  do  not  worship  him." 
The  Jew  said:     "It  was  not  altogether  wor- 
ship he  desired.     He  asked  that  men  should  love 
him.     He  does  not  ask  that  of  me." 

[68] 


AHASUERUS       IS       PATIENT 

"I  find  that  an  obscure  saying,"  Demetrios 
considered. 

"It  is  a  true  saying,  King  of  Kings.  In  time 
it  will  be  made  plain.  That  time  is  not  yet  come. 
I  used  to  pray  it  would  come  soon.  Now  I  do  not 
pray  any  longer.  I  only  wait." 

Demetrios  tugged  at  his  chin,  his  eyes  nar- 
rowed, meditating.  He  laughed. 

"It  is  no  affair  of  mine.  What  am  I  that  I  am 
called  upon  to  have  prejudices  concerning  the  uni- 
verse ?  It  is  highly  probable  that  there  are  gods 
of  some  sort  or  another,  but  I  do  not  so  far  flat- 
ter myself  as  to  consider  that  any  possible  god 
would  be  at  all  interested  in  my  opinion  of  him. 
In  any  event,  I  am  Demetrios.  Let  the  worst 
come,  and  in  whatever  baleful  underworld  I  find 
myself  imprisoned  I  shall  maintain  myself  there 
in  a  manner  not  unworthy  of  Demetrios."  The 
proconsul  shrugged  at  this  point.  "I  do  not  find 
you  amusing,  Ahasuerus.  You  may  go." 

"I  hear  and  I  obey,"  the  Jew  replied.  He 
went  away  patiently. 

[69] 


VIII 

HOW  DEMETRIOS   WOOED 

THEN  Demetrios  turned  toward  Melicent, 
rejoicing  that  his  chattel  had  golden  hair 
and  was  comely  beyond  comparison  with 
all  other  women  he  had  ever  seen. 

Said  Demetrios:  "I  love  you,  Melicent,  and 
you  do  not  love  me.  Do  not  be  offended  because 
my  speech  is  harsh,  for  even  though  I  know  my 
candour  is  distasteful  I  must  speak  the  truth. 
You  have  been  obdurate  too  long,  denying  Kypris 
what  is  due  to  her.  I  think  that  your  brain  is 
giddy  because  of  too  much  exulting  in  the  mag- 
nificence of  your  body  and  in  the  number  of  men 
who  have  desired  it  to  their  own  hurt.  I  concede 
your  beauty,  yet  what  will  it  matter  a  hundred 
years  from  now? 

"I  admit  that  my  refrain  is  old.  But  it  will 
presently  take  on  a  more  poignant  meaning,  be- 
cause a  hundred  years  from  now  you — even  you, 

[70] 


NOW       DEMETRIOS       WOOES 

dear  Melicent ! — and  all  the  loveliness  which  now 
causes  me  to  estimate  life  as  a  light  matter  in 
comparison  with  love,  will  be  only  a  bone  or  two. 
Your  lustrous  eyes,  which  are  now  more  beauti- 
ful than  it  is  possible  to  express,  will  be  un- 
savoury holes  and  a  worm  will  crawl  through 
them;  and  what  will  it  matter  a  hundred  years 
from  now? 

"A  hundred  years  from  now  should  any  one 
break  open  our  gilded  tomb,  he  will  find  Melicent 
to  be  no  more  admirable  than  Demetrios.  One 
skull  is  like  another,  and  is  as  lightly  split  with  a 
mattock.  Hail,  rain  and  dew  will  drench  us  im- 
partially when  I  lie  at  your  side,  as  I  intend  to  do, 
for  a  hundred  years  and  yet  another  hundred 
years.  You  need  not  frown,  for  what  will  it 
matter  a  hundred  years  from  now  ? 

"Melicent,  I  offer  love  and  a  life  that  derides 
the  folly  of  all  other  manners  of  living;  and  even 
if  you  deny  me,  what  will  it  matter  a  hundred 
years  from  now?" 

His  face  was  violently  contorted,  his  speech 
had  fervent  bitterness,  for  even  while  he  wooed 

[71] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

the  girl  the  man  internally  was  raging  over  his 
own  infatuation. 

And  Melicent  answered:  "There  can  be  no 
question  of  love  between  us,  seignior.  You  pur- 
chased my  body.  My  body  is  at  your  disposal  un- 
der God's  will." 

Demetrios  sneered,  his  ardours  cooled. 

"I  have  already  told  you,  my  girl,  I  do  not  care 
for  that  which  can  be  purchased/' 

In  such  fashion  Melicent  abode  among  these 
odious  persons  as  a  lily  which  is  rooted  in  mire. 
She  was  a  prisoner  always,  and  when  Demetrios 
came  to  Nacumera — which  fell  about  irregularly, 
for  now  arose  much  fighting  between  the  Chris- 
tians and  the  pagans — a  gem  which  he  uncased, 
admired,  curtly  exulted  in,  and  then,  jeering  at 
those  hot  wishes  in  his  heart,  locked  up  untouched 
when  he  went  back  to  warfare. 

To  her  the  man  was  uniformly  kind,  if  with  a 
sort  of  sneer  she  could  not  understand;  and  he 
pillaged  an  infinity  of  Genoese  and  Venetian  ships 
— which  were  notoriously  the  richliest  laden — of 

[72] 


NOW       DEMETRIOS       WOOES 

jewels,  veils,  silks,  furs,  embroideries  and  figured 
stuffs,  wherewith  to  enhance  the  comeliness  of 
Melicent.  It  seemed  an  all-engulfing  madness 
with  this  despot  daily  to  aggravate  his  fierce  de- 
sire of  her,  to  nurture  his  obsession,  so  that  he 
might  glory  in  the  consciousness  of  treading 
down  no  puny  adversary. 

Pride  spurred  him  on  as  witches  ride  their 
dupes  to  a  foreknown  destruction.  "Let  us  have 
patience,"  he  would  say. 

Meanwhile  his  other  wives  peered  from 
screened  alcoves  at  these  two  and  duly  hated  Mel- 
icent. "Let  us  have  patience,"  they  said  also,  but 
with  a  meaning  even  more  sinister. 


[73] 


PART  THREE 

DEMETRIOS 

Of  how  Dame  Melicent's  fond  lovers  go 
As  comrades,  working  each  his  fellow's  woe. 
Each  hath  unhorsed  the  other  of  the  twain, 
And  knoweth  that  nowhither  'twixt  Ukraine 
And  Ormus  roameth  any  lion's  son 
More  eager  in  the  hunt  than  Perion, 
Nor  any  viper's  sire  more  venomous 
Through  jealous  hurt  than  is  Demetrios. 


I 

HOW   DEMETRIOS   WAS   TAKEN 

IT  is  a  tale  which  they  narrate  in  Poictesme, 
telling  how  war  awoke  and  raged  about  the 
province  of  Demetrios  as  tirelessly  as  waves 
lapped  at  its  shore.     They  tell  also  how  the  Comte 
de  la  Foret  (for  the  King  of  Cyprus  ennobled 
Perion  after  the  latter's  famous  relief  of  the  gar- 
rison at  Japhe)  proved  in  these  wars  that  Perion 
had  not  his  twin  in  Christendom.1 

And  the  tale  tells  how  Perion's  skill  in  warfare 
was  leased  to  whatsoever  lord  would  dare  con- 
tend against  Demetrios  and  the  proconsul's  magic 
sword  Flamberge ;  and  how  Perion  of  the  Forest 
did  not  inordinately  concern  himself  as  to  the  mer- 
its of  any  quarrel,  because  of  which  battalions 
died,  so  long  as  he  fought  toward  Melicent. 
Demetrios  was  thrilled  with  the  heroic  joy  of  an 

1  Nicolas  de  Caen  has  here  a  minute  account  of  four  campaigns, 
detailing  all  military  and  naval  evolutions  with  a  fullness  which 
verges  upon  prolixity.  It  appears  expedient  to  omit  this. 

[77] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

athlete  who  finds  that  he  unwittingly  has  grappled 
with  his  equal. 

Then,  after  many  ups  and  downs  of  carnage, 
Perion  surprised  the  galley  of  Demetrios  while 
the  proconsul  slept  at  anchor  in  his  own  harbour 
of  Quesiton.  Demetrios  fought  nakedly  against 
accoutred  soldiers  and  had  killed  two  of  them 
with  his  hands  before  he  could  be  quieted  by  an 
admiring  Perion. 

Demetrios  by  Perion's  order  was  furnished 
with  a  sword  of  ordinary  attributes,  and  Perion 
ridded  himself  of  all  defensive  armour.  The  two 
met  like  an  encounter  of  tempests,  and  in  the  out- 
come Demetrios  was  wounded  so  that  he  lay  in- 
sensible. Demetrios  was  taken  as  a  prisoner 
toward  the  domains  of  King  Theodoret,  third  of 
that  name  to  rule,  and  once  (as  you  have  heard) 
a  wooer  of  Dame  Melicent.  Perion  then  served 
this  prince,  who  did  not  love  him  but  found  him 
useful. 

"Only  you  are  my  private  capture,"  said  Pe- 
rion;  "conquered  by  my  own  hand  and  in  fair  fight. 
Now  I  am  unwilling  to  insult  the  most  valiant 

[78] 


DEMETRIOS       IS       TAKEN 

warrior  whom  I  have  known  by  valuing  him  too 
cheaply,  and  I  accordingly  fix  your  ransom  as  the 
person  of  Dame  Melicent." 

Demetrios  bit  his  nails. 

"Needs  must,"  he  said  at  last.  "It  is  unneces- 
sary to  inform  you  that  when  my  property  is  taken 
from  me  I  shall  endeavour  to  regain  it.  I  shall, 
before  the  year  is  out,  lay  waste  whatever  prov- 
ince harbours  you.  Meanwhile  I  warn  you  that 
it  is  necessary  to  be  speedy  in  this  ransoming. 
My  other  wives  abhor  the  Prankish  woman  who 
has  supplanted  them  in  my  esteem.  My  son 
Orestes,  who  succeeds  me,  will  be  guided  by  his 
mother.  Callistion  has  thrice  endeavoured  to  kill 
Melicent.  If  any  harm  befalls  me,  Callistion  to 
all  intent  will  reign  in  Nacumera,  and  she  will 
not  be  satisfied  with  mere  assassination.  I  can- 
not guess  what  torment  Callistion  will  devise,  but 
it  will  be  no  child's  play — " 

"Oh,  infamy!"  cried  Perion.  He  had  learned 
long  ago  how  cunning  the  heathen  were  in  such 
cruelties,  and  so  he  shuddered. 

Demetrios  was  silent.     He,  too,  was  fright- 

[79] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

ened,  because  this  despot  knew — and  none  knew 
better — that  in  his  lordly  house  far  oversea  Callis- 
tion  would  find  equipment  for  a  hundred  curious 
tortures. 

"It  has  been  difficult  for  me  to  tell  you  this/' 
Demetrios  then  said,  "because  it  savours  of  an 
appeal  to  spare  me.  I  think  you  will  have  gleaned 
however,  from  our  former  encounters  that  I  am 
not  unreasonably  afraid  of  death.  Also  I  think 
that  you  love  Melicent.  For  the  rest,  there  is 
no  person  in  Nacumera  so  untutored  as  to  cross 
my  least  desire  until  my  death  is  triply  proven. 
Accordingly,  I  that  am  Demetrios  am  willing  to 
entreat  an  oath  that  you  will  not  permit  Theo- 
doret  to  kill  me." 

"I  swear  by  God  and  all  the  laws  of  Rome — " 
cried  Perion. 

"Ey,  but  I  am  not  very  popular  in  Rome," 
Demetrios  interrupted.  "I  would  prefer  that  you 
swore  by  your  love  for  Melicent.  I  would  pre- 
fer an  oath  which  both  of  us  may  understand, 
and  I  know  of  none  other." 

[80] 


DE METRICS        IS        TAKEN 

So  Perion  swore  as  Demetrios  requested,  and 
set  about  the  conveyance  of  Demetrios  into  King 
Theodoret's  realm. 


[81] 


II 

HOW   THEY   PRAISED   MELICENT 

THE  conqueror  and  the  conquered  sat  to- 
gether upon  the  prow  of  Perion' s  ship. 
It  was  a  warm,  clear  night,  so  brilliant 
that  the   stars   were   invisible.     Perion   sighed. 
Demetrios  inquired  the  reason. 

"It  is  the  memory  of  a  fair  and  noble  lady," 
Perion  answered,  "that  causes  me  to  heave  a  sigh 
from  my  inmost  heart,  Messire  Demetrios.  I 
cannot  forget  that  loveliness  which  had  no  par- 
allel. Pardieu,  her  eyes  were  amethysts,  her  lips 
were  red  as  the  berries  of  a  holly-tree.  Her  hair 
blazed  in  the  light,  bright  as  the  sunflower  glows ; 
her  skin  was  whiter  than  milk;  the  down  of  a 
fledgling  bird  was  not  more  grateful  to  the  touch 
than  were  her  hands.  Whoso  beheld  her  was 
fulfilled  with  love  of  Melicent." 

Demetrios  conceded,  with  his  customary  lazy 
shrug:  "She  is  still  a  brightly-coloured  crea- 

[82] 


THEY      PRAISE      MELICENT 

ture,  moves  gracefully,  has  a  sweet,  drowsy  voice, 
and  is  as  soft  to  the  touch  as  rabbit's  fur.  There- 
fore, it  is  imperative  that  one  of  us  must  cut  the 
other's  throat.  The  deduction  is  perfectly  logi- 
cal." He  yawned  and  added:  "Yet  I  do  not 
know  that  my  love  for  her  is  any  greater  than 
my  hatred.  I  rage  against  her  patient  tolerance 
of  me,  and  I  am  often  tempted  to  disfigure,  muti- 
late, even  to  destroy  this  colourful,  stupid  woman, 
who  makes  me  wofully  ridiculous  in  my  own  eyes. 
If  Melicent  were  dead,  it  would  be  the  happier  for 
Demetrios." 

"When  I  first  saw  Dame  Melicent,"  said  Perion, 
"the  sea  was  languid,  as  if  outworn  by  vain  en- 
deavours to  rival  the  purple  of  her  eyes.  Sea- 
birds  were  adrift  in  the  air,  very  close  to  her, 
and  their  movements  were  less  graceful  than  hers. 
She  was  attired  in  a  robe  of  white  silk,  and  about 
her  wrists  were  heavy  bands  of  silver.  A  tiny  wind 
played  truant  in  order  to  caress  her  unplaited 
hair,  because  the  wind  was  more  hardy  than  I  and 
dared  to  love  her.  I  did  not  think  of  love,  I 
thought  only  of  the  brave  deeds  I  might  have  done 

[83] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

and  had  not  done.  I  thought  of  my  unworthi- 
ness,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  my  soul  writhed 
like  an  eel  in  sunlight,  a  naked,  despicable  thing, 
before  the  feet  of  Melicent." 

Demetrios  said:  "When  I  first  saw  the  girl 
she  knew  herself  entrapped,  her  body  mine,  her 
life  dependent  on  my  whim.  She  waved  aside 
such  petty  inconveniences,  bade  them  await  an 
hour  when  she  had  leisure  to  consider  them,  be- 
cause nothing  else  was  of  any  importance  so  long 
as  my  porter  went  in  chains.  I  was  an  obstacle 
to  her  plans  and  nothing  more;  a  pebble  in  her 
shoe  would  have  perturbed  her  about  as  much  as 
I  did.  Here  at  last,  I  thought,  is  genuine  com- 
mon sense — a  clear-headed  decision  as  to  your 
actual  desire,  apart  from  man-taught  ethics,  and 
fearless  purchase  of  it  at  any  cost.  Therein  I 
recognise  something  not  unakin  to  Demetrios." 

Said  Perion :  "Since  she  permits  me  to  serve 
her,  I  may  not  serve  unworthily.  To-morrow 
I  shall  set  new  armies  afield.  To-morrow  it  will 
delight  me  to  see  their  tents  rise  in  your  mead- 
ows, Messire  Demetrios,  and  to  see  our  followers 

[84] 


THEY      PRAISE      MELICENT 

meet  in  clashing  combat,  by  hundreds  and  thou- 
sands, so  mightily  that  men  will  sing  of  it  when 
we  are  gone.  To-morrow  one  of  us  must  kill  the 
other.  To-night  we  drink  our  wine  in  amity.  I 
have  not  time  to  hate  you,  I  have  not  time  to  like  or 
dislike  any  living  person,  I  must  devote  all  facul- 
ties that  heaven  gave  me  to  the  love  and  service 
of  Melicent." 

"To-night  we  babble  to  the  stars  and  dream 
vain  dreams  as  other  fools  have  done  before  us," 
Demetrios  considered.  "To-morrow  rests  with 
heaven;  but,  depend  upon  it,  Messire  de  la  Foret, 
whatever  we  may  do  will  be  foolishly  performed, 
because  we  are  both  besotted  by  bright  eyes  and 
lips  and  hair.  I  trust  to  find  our  antics  laugha- 
ble. Yet  there  is  that  in  me  which  is  murderous," 
Demetrios  observed,  "when  I  reflect  that  you  and 
she  do  not  dislike  me.  It  is  the  actual  truth  that 
neither  of  you  considers  me  to  be  worth  the 
trouble.  I  find  such  conduct  irritating,  because 
no  other  persons  have  ever  dared  to  deal  in  this 
fashion  with  Demetrios." 

[85] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Thus  they  would  sit  together  nightly  upon  the 
prow  of  Perion's  ship  and  rhapsodise  of  Melicent 
until  the  stars  grew  lustreless  before  the  sun. 


[86] 


Ill 

HOW   PERION   BRAVED   THEODORET 

THE  city  of  Megaris  (then  Theodoret's 
capital)  was  ablaze  with  bonfires  on  the 
night  that  the  Comte  de  la  Foret  entered 
it  at  the  head  of  his  forces.  Demetrios, 
meanly  clothed,  his  hands  tied  behind  him, 
trudged  sullenly  beside  his  conqueror's  horse. 
Yet  of  the  two  the  gloomier  face  showed  below  the 
count's  coronet,  for  Perion  did  not  relish  the  im- 
pendent interview  with  King  Theodoret.  They 
came  thus  amid  much  shouting  to  the  Hotel 
d'Ebelin,  their  assigned  quarters,  and  slept  there. 
Next  morning,  about  the  hour  of  prime,  two 
men-at-arms  accompanied  a  fettered  Demetrios 
into  the  presence  of  King  Theodoret.  Perion  of 
the  Forest  preceded  them.  He  pardonably 
swaggered,  in  spite  of  his  underlying  uneasiness, 
for  this  last  feat,  as  he  could  not  ignore,  was  a 
performance  which  Christendom  united  to  ap- 
plaud. 

[87] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

They  came  thus  into  a  spacious  chamber,  very 
inadequately  lighted.  The  walls  were  unhewn 
stone.  There  was  but  one  window,  of  uncoloured 
glass;  and  it  was  guarded  by  iron  bars.  The 
floor  was  bare  of  rushes.  On  one  side  was  a  bed 
with  tattered  hangings  of  green,  which  were 
adorned  with  rampant  lions  worked  in  silver 
thread  much  tarnished;  to  the  right  hand  stood 
a  prie-dieu.  Between  these  isolated  articles  of 
furniture  and  behind  an  unpainted  table  sat,  in 
a  high-backed  chair,  a  wizen  and  shabbily-clad 
old  man.  This  was  Theodoret,  most  pious  and 
penurious  of  monarchs.  In  attendance  upon  him 
were  Fra  Battista,  prior  of  the  Grey  Monks,  and 
Melicent's  near  kinsman,  once  the  Bishop,  now 
the  Cardinal,  de  Montors,  who,  as  was  widely 
known,  was  the  actual  monarch  of  this  realm. 
The  latter  was  smartly  habited  as  a  cavalier  and 
showed  in  nothing  like  a  churchman. 

The  infirm  King  arose  and  came  to  meet  the 
champion  who  had  performed  what  many  gener- 
als of  Christendom  had  vainly  striven  to  achieve. 

[88] 


THEODORET      IS      BRAVED 

He  embraced  the  conqueror  of  Demetrios  as  one 
does  an  equal. 

Said  Theodoret:  "Hail,  my  fair  friend!  you 
who  have  lopped  the  right  arm  of  heathenry! 
To-day,  I  know,  the  saints  hold  festival  in  heaven. 
I  cannot  recompense  you,  since  God  alone  is  om- 
nipotent. Yet  ask  now  what  you  will,  short  of 
my  crown,  and  it  is  yours."  The  old  man  kissed 
the  chief  of  all  his  treasures,  a  bit  of  the  True 
Cross,  which  hung  upon  his  breast  supported  by  a 
chain  of  gold. 

"The  King  has  spoken,"  Perion  returned.  "I 
ask  the  life  of  Demetrios." 

Theodoret  recoiled,  like  a  small  flame  which  is 
fluttered  by  its  kindler's  breath.  He  cackled 
thinly. 

"A  jest  or  so  is  privileged  in  this  high  hour. 
Yet  we  ought  not  to  make  a  jest  of  matters  which 
concern  the  Church.  Am  I  not  right,  Ayrart? 
Oh,  no,  this  merciless  Demetrios  is  assuredly  that 
very  Antichrist  whose  coming  was  foretold.  I 
must  relinquish  him  to  Mother  Church,  in  order 

[89] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

that  he  may  be  equitably  tried,  and  be  baptised — 
since  even  he  may  have  a  soul — and  afterward  be 
burned  in  the  market-place." 

"The  King  has  spoken/'  Perion  replied.  "I 
too  have  spoken." 

There  was  a  pause  of  horror  upon  the  part  of 
King  Theodoret.  He  was  at  first  in  a  mere 
whirl. 

"You  ask,  in  earnest,  for  the  life  of  this  Deme- 
trios,  this  arch-foe  of  our  Redeemer,  this  spawn 
of  Satan,  who  has  sacked  more  of  my  towns  than 
I  have  fingers  on  this  wasted  hand!  Now,  now 
that  God  has  singularly  favoured  me — !"  He 
snarled  and  gibbered  like  a  frenzied  ape,  and  had 
no  longer  the  ability  to  articulate. 

"Beau  sire,  I  fought  the  man  because  he  in- 
famously held  Dame  Melicent,  whom  I  serve  in 
this  world  without  any  reservation  and  trust  to 
serve  in  Paradise.  His  person,  and  this  alone, 
will  ransom  Melicent." 

"You  plan  to  loose  this  fiend!"  the  old  king 
cried.  "To  stir  up  all  this  butchery  again !" 

"Sire,  pray  recall  how  long  I  have  loved  Meli- 

[90] 


THEODORET      IS      BRAVED 

cent.  Reflect  that  if  you  slay  Demetrios,  Dame 
Melicent  will  be  left  destitute  in  heathenry.  Re- 
member that  she  will  be  murdered  through  the 
hatred  of  this  man's  other  wives  whom  her  in- 
estimable beauty  has  supplanted."  Thus  Perion 
entreated. 

It  was  curious  to  note  how,  all  this  while,  the 
cardinal  and  the  proconsul  had  appraised  each 
other.  It  was  as  though  they  two  had  been  the 
only  persons  in  the  dimly-lit  apartment.  They 
had  not  met  before.  "Here  is  my  match/' 
thought  each  of  these  two;  "here  if  the  world  af- 
fords it  is  my  peer  in  cunning  and  bravery."  And 
each  lusted  for  a  contest,  and  with  something  of 
mutual  comprehension. 

In  consequence  they  stinted  pity  for  Theodoret, 
who  unfeignedly  believed  that  whether  he  kept 
or  broke  his  recent  oath  damnation  was  inevita- 
ble. "You  have  been  ill-advised — "  he  stam- 
mered. "I  do  not  dare  release  Demetrios — 
My  soul  would  answer  that  enormity —  But  it 
was  sworn  upon  the  Cross —  Oh,  ruin  either 
way !  Come  now,  my  gallant  captain,"  the  King 

[91] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

barked.     "I    have    gold,    lands,    and   jewels — " 

"Beau  sire,  I  have  loved  this  my  dearest  lady 
since  the  time  when  both  of  us  were  little  more 
than  children,  and  each  day  of  the  year  my  love 
for  her  has  been  doubled.  What  would  it  avail 
me  to  live  in  however  lofty  estate  when  I  cannot 
daily  see  the  treasure  of  my  life?" 

And  now  the  Cardinal  de  Montors  interrupted, 
and  his  voice  was  to  the  ear  as  silk  is  to  the  fin- 
gers. 

"Beau  sire,"  said  Ayrart  de  Montors,  "I  speak 
in  all  appropriate  respect.  But  you  have  sworn 
an  oath  which  no  man  living  may  presume  to  vio- 
late." 

"Oh,  true,  Ayrart!"  the  fluttered  King  as- 
sented. "This  blusterer  holds  me  as  in  a  vise." 
He  turned  to  Perion,  fierce,  tense  and  fragile, 
like  an  angered  cat.  "Choose  now !  I  will  make 
you  the  wealthiest  person  in  my  realm —  My 
son,  I  warn  you  that  since  Adam's  time  women 
have  been  the  devil's  peculiar  bait.  See  now,  I 
am  not  angry.  Heh,  I  remember,  too,  how  beau- 
tiful she  was.  I  was  once  tempted  much  as  you 

[92] 


THEODORET      IS      BRAVED 

are  tempted.  So  I  pardon  you.  I  will  give  you 
my  daughter  Ermengarde  in  marriage,  I  will 
make  you  my  heir,  I  will  give  you  half  my  king- 
dom— "  His  voice  rose,  quavering;  and  it  died 
now,  for  he  foreread  the  damnation  of  Theo- 
doret's  soul  even  while  he  fawned  before  an  im- 
passive Perion. 

"Since  Love  has  taken  up  his  abode  within  my 
heart,"  said  Perion,  "there  has  not  ever  been  a 
vacancy  therein  for  any  other  thought.  How 
may  I  help  it  if  Love  recompenses  my  hospitality 
by  afflicting  me  with  a  desire  which  can  neither 
subdue  the  world  nor  be  subdued  by  it?" 

Theodoret's  reply  was  like  the  rustle  of  dead 
leaves. 

"Else  I  must  keep  my  oath.  In  that  event  you 
may  depart  with  this  unbeliever.  I  will  accord 
you  twenty- four  hours  wherein  to  accomplish  this. 
But,  oh,  if  I  lay  hands  upon  either  of  you  within 
the  twenty-fifth  hour  I  will  not  kill  my  prisoner 
at  once.  For  first  I  must  devise  unheard-of  tor- 
ments— "  The  King's  face  was  not  agreeable  to 
look  upon. 

[93] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Yet  Perion  encountered  it  with  an  untroubled 
gaze  until  Battista  spoke. 

"I  promise  worse.  The  Book  will  be  cast  down, 
the  bells  be  tolled,  and  all  the  candles  snuffed — 
ah,  very  soon !"  He  licked  his  lips,  gingerly,  just 
as  a  cat  does. 

Then  Perion  was  moved,  since  excommunica- 
tion is  more  terrible  than  death  to  any  of  the 
Church's  loyal  children,  and  he  was  now  more 
frightened  than  the  King.  And  so  Perion 
thought  of  Melicent  a  while  before  he  spoke. 

Said  Perion:  "I  choose.  I  choose  Deme- 
trios." 

"Go !"  the  King  said.  "Go  hence,  blasphemer. 
Hah,  you  will  weep  because  of  this  in  hell.  I 
pray  that  I  may  hear  you  then,  and  laugh  as  I 
do  now — " 

He  went  away,  and  was  followed  by  Battista, 
who  whispered  of  a  makeshift.  The  cardinal  re- 
mained and  saw  to  it  that  the  chains  were  taken 
from  Demetrios. 

"In  consequence  of  Messire  de  la  Foret's — as 
I  must  term  it — most  unchristian  decision,"  said 

[94] 


THEODORET      IS      BRAVED 

the  cardinal,  "it  is  not  impossible,  Messire  the 
Proconsul,  that  I  may  head  the  next  assault  upon 
your  territory — " 

Demetrios  laughed. 

"I  dare  to  promise  your  Eminence  that  recep- 
tion you  would  most  enjoy." 

"I  had  hoped  for  as  much/'  the  cardinal  re- 
turned; and  he  too  laughed.  To  do  him  justice, 
he  did  not  know  of  Battista's  makeshift. 

The  cardinal  remained  when  they  had  gone. 
Seated  in  a  king's  chair,  Ayrart  de  Montors  med- 
itated rather  wistfully  upon  that  old  time  when 
he,  also,  had  loved  Melicent  whole-heartedly.  It 
seemed  a  great  while  ago,  made  him  aware  of  his 
maturity. 

He  had  put  love  out  of  his  life  in  common  with 
all  other  weaknesses  which  might  conceivably 
hinder  the  advancement  of  Ayrart  de  Montors. 
In  consequence,  he  had  climbed  far.  He  was  not 
dissatisfied.  It  was  a  man's  business  to  make  his 
way  in  the  world,  and  he  had  done  so. 

"My  cousin  is  a  brave  girl,  though,"  he  said 

[95] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

aloud,  "I  must  certainly  do  what  I  can  to  effect 
her  rescue  as  soon  as  it  is  convenient  to  send  an- 
other expedition  against  Demetrios." 

Then  the  cardinal  set  about  concoction  of  a 
moving  sonnet  in  praise  of  Monna  Vittoria  de' 
Pazzi.  Desperation  loaned  him  extraordinary 
eloquence  (as  he  complacently  reflected)  in  ad- 
dressing this  obdurate  woman,  who  had  held  out 
against  his  love-making  for  six  weeks  now. 


[96] 


IV 

HOW   PERION    FOUGHT   IN    SANNAZARO 

DEMETRIOS  and  Perion,  by  the  quick 
turn  of  fortune  previously  recorded, 
were  allied  against  all  Christendom. 
They  got  arms  at  the  Hotel  d'Ebelin  and  rode  out 
of  the  city  of  Megaris,  where  the  bonfires  lighted 
over-night  in  Perion's  honour  were  still  smoulder- 
ing, amid  loud  execrations.  Fra  Battista  had  not 
delayed  to  spread  the  news  of  King  Theodoret's 
dilemma.  The  burghers  yelled  menaces;  but, 
knowing  that  an  endeavour  to  constrain  the  pas- 
sage of  these  champions  would  prove  unwhole- 
some for  at  least  a  dozen  of  the  arrestors,  they 
cannily  confined  their  malice  to  a  vocal  demonstra- 
tion. 

Demetrios  rode  unhelmeted,  intending  that 
these  snarling  little  people  of  Megaris  should 
plainly  see  the  man  whom  they  most  feared  and 
hated. 

[97] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

It  was  Perion  who  spoke  first.  They  had 
passed  the  city  walls,  and  had  mounted  the  hill 
which  leads  toward  the  Forest  of  Sannazaro. 
Their  road  lay  through  a  rocky  pass  above  which 
the  leaves  of  spring  were  like  sparse  traceries  on  a 
blue  cupola,  for  April  had  not  come  as  yet. 

"I  meant,"  said  Perion,  "to  hold  you  as  the  ran- 
som of  Dame  Melicent.  I  fear  that  is  impossible. 
I,  who  am  a  landless  man,  have  neither  servitors 
nor  any  castle  wherein  to  retain  you  as  a  prisoner. 
I  earnestly  desire  to  kill  you,  and  forthwith,  in 
single  combat;  but  when  your  son  Orestes 
knows  that  you  are  dead  he  will,  as  you  report, 
kill  Melicent.  And  yet  it  may  be  you  are 
lying." 

Perion  was  of  a  tall  imperious  person,  and  long 
accustomed  to  command.  He  had  black  hair, 
grey  eyes  which  challenged  you,  and  a  thin  pleas- 
ant face  which  was  not  pleasant  now. 

"You  know  that  I  am  not  a  coward — "  Deme- 
trios  began. 

"Indeed,"  said  Perion,  "I  believe  you  to  be  the 
hardiest  warrior  in  the  world." 

[98] 


NOW          PERION          FIGHTS 

'Therefore  I  may  without  dishonour  repeat  to 
you  that  my  death  involves  the  death  of  Melicent. 
Orestes  hates  her  for  his  mother's  sake.  I  think 
that  each  of  us  knows  I  do  not  fear  death,  since 
we  have  fought  so  often.  I  grant  I  had  Flam- 
berge  to  wield,  a  magic  weapon — "  Demetrios 
shook  himself,  like  a  dog  coming  from  the  water, 
for  to  consider  an  extraneous  invincibility  was 
nauseous.  "However !  I  that  am  Demetrios  pro- 
test I  will  not  fight  with  you,  that  I  will  accept 
any  insult  rather  than  risk  my  life  in  any  quarrel 
extant,  since  when  Orestes  knows  I  am  no  longer 
to  be  feared  he  will  take  vengeance  on  Dame  Meli- 
cent." 

'Trove  this!"  said  Perion,  and  with  delibera- 
tion he  struck  Demetrios.  Full  in  the  face  he 
struck  the  swart  proconsul,  and  in  the  ensuing 
silence  you  could  hear  a  feeble  breeze  that  strayed 
about  the  tree-tops,  but  nothing  else.  And 
Perion,  strong  man,  the  willing  scourge  of  heath- 
endom, had  half  a  mind  to  weep. 

Demetrios  had  not  moved  a  finger.  It  was  ap- 
palling. The  proconsul's  countenance  had 

[99] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

throughout  the  hue  of  wood-ashes,  but  his  fixed 
eyes  were  like  blown  embers. 

"I  believe  that  it  is  proved,"  said  Demetrios, 
"since  both  of  us  are  still  alive."  He  whispered 
this. 

"In  fact  the  thing  is  settled/'  Perion  agreed. 
"I  know  that  nothing  save  your  love  for  Melicent 
could  possibly  induce  you  to  decline  a  proffered 
battle.  When  Demetrios  enacts  the  poltroon  I 
am  the  most  hasty  of  all  men  living  to  assert  that 
the  excellency  of  his  reason  is  indisputable.  Let 
us  get  on !  I  have  only  five  hundred  sequins,  but 
this  will  be  enough  to  buy  your  passage  back  to 
Quesiton.  And  inasmuch  as  we  are  near  the 
coast—" 

"I  think  some  others  mean  to  have  a  spoon  in 
that  broth,"  Demetrios  returned.  "  For  look, 
messire !" 

Perion  saw  that  far  beneath  them  a  company 
of  retainers  in  white  and  purple  were  spurring 
up  the  hill.  "It  is  Duke  Raimond's  livery,"  said 
Perion. 

Demetrios  gloried  in  his  ruin. 
[100] 


NOW         PERION          FIGHTS 

"Pious  Theodoret  has  sworn  a  truce  of  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  in  consequence  might  not  send 
any  of  his  own  lackeys  after  us.  But  there  was 
nothing  to  prevent  the  dropping  of  a  hint  into 
the  ear  of  his  brother-in-law,  because  you  ser- 
vitors of  Christ  excel  in  these  distinctions." 

"This  is  hardly  an  opportunity  for  theological 
debate,"  Perion  considered.  "And  for  the  rest, 
time  presses.  It  is  your  instant  business  to  es- 
cape." He  gave  his  tiny  bag  of  gold  to  his  chief 
enemy.  "Make  for  Narenta.  It  is  a  free  city 
and  unfriendly  to  Theodoret.  If  I  survive  I  will 
come  presently  and  fight  with  you  for  Melicent." 

"I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  Demetrios 
equably  returned.  "Am  I  the  person  to  permit 
the  man  whom  I  most  hate — you  who  have  struck 
me  and  yet  live! — to  fight  alone  against  some 
twenty  adversaries !  Oh,  no,  I  shall  remain,  since 
after  all,  there  are  only  twenty." 

"I  was  mistaken  in  you,"  Perion  replied,  "for 
I  had  thought  you  loved  Dame  Melicent  as  I  do. 
I  find  too  late  that  you  would  estimate  your  pri- 
vate honour  as  set  against  her  welfare," 

[101] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

The  two  men  looked  upon  each  other.  Long 
and  long  they  looked,  and  each  was  elated.  "I 
comprehend/'  Demetrios  said.  He  clapped  spurs 
to  his  horse  and  fled  as  a  coward  would  have  done. 
This  was  one  occasion  in  his  life  when  he  over- 
came his  pride,  and  should  in  consequence  be 
noted. 

The  heart  of  Perion  was  glad. 

"Oh,  but  at  times,"  said  Perion,  "I  wish  that 
I  might  honourably  love  this  infamous  proconsul." 

Afterward  he  wheeled  and  met  Duke  Raimond's 
men.  Then  like  a  reaper  cutting  a  field  of  wheat 
Sire  Perion  showed  the  sun  his  sword  and  went 
about  his  work,  and  not  without  harvesting. 

In  that  narrow  way  nothing  could  be  heard  but 
the  striking  of  blows  on  armour  and  the  clash  of 
swords  which  bit  at  one  another.  The  Comte  de 
la  Foret,  for  once,  allowed  himself  the  privilege 
of  fighting  in  anger.  He  went  without  a  word 
toward  this  hopeless  encounter,  as  a  drunkard  to 
his  bottle.  First  Perion  killed  Ruggiero  of  the 
Lamberti  and  after  that  Perion  raged  as  a  wolf 

[102] 


NOW         PERION          FIGHTS 

harrying  sheep.  Six  other  stalwart  men  he  cut 
down  like  a  dumb  maniac  among  tapestries.  His 
horse  was  slain  and  lay  blocking  the  road,  making 
a  barrier  behind  which  Perion  fought.  Then  Pe- 
rion  encountered  Giacomo  di  Forio,  and  while  the 
two  contended  Gulio  the  Red  very  warily  cast  his 
sword  like  a  spear  so  that  it  penetrated  Perion's 
left  shoulder  and  drew  much  blood.  This  ham- 
pered the  lone  champion.  Then  Marzio  threw  a 
stone  which  struck  on  Perion's  crest  and  broke 
the  fastenings  of  Perion's  helmet.  Instantly  Gia- 
como gave  him  three  wounds,  and  Perion  stum- 
bled, the  sunlight  glossing  his  hair.  He  fell  and 
they  took  him.  They  robbed  the  corpses  of  their 
surcoats,  which  they  tore  in  strips.  They  made 
ropes  of  this  bloodied  finery,  and  with  these  ropes 
they  bound  Perion  of  the  Forest,  whom  twenty 
men  had  conquered  finally. 

He  laughed  like  a  person  bedrugged ;  but  in  the 
midst  of  this  superfluous  defiance  Perion  swooned 
because  of  many  injuries.  He  knew  that  with 
fair  luck  Demetrios  had  a  sufficient  start.  His 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

heart  exulted,  thinking  that  Melicent  was  saved. 
It  was  the  happier  for  him  he  was  not  ever  des- 
tined to  comprehend  the  standards  of  Demetrios. 


[104] 


HOW   DEMETRIOS    MEDITATED 

DEMETRIOS  came  without  any  hin- 
drance into  Narenta,  a  free  city.  He 
believed  his  Emperor  must  have  sent 
galleys  toward  Christendom  to  get  tidings  of  his 
generalissimo,  but  in  this  city  of  merchants  De- 
metrios  heard  no  report  of  them.  Yet  in  the  har- 
bour he  found  a  trading-ship  prepared  for  traffic 
in  the  country  of  the  pagans;  the  sail  was  naked 
to  the  wind,  and  the  anchor-chain  was  already 
shortened  at  the  bow.  Demetrios  bargained  with 
the  captain  of  this  vessel,  and  in  the  outcome  paid 
him  four  hundred  sequins.  In  exchange  the  man 
agreed  to  touch  at  the  Needle  of  Ansignano  that 
afternoon  and  take  Demetrios  aboard.  Since  the 
proconsul  had  no  passport,  he  could  not  with 
safety  endeavour  to  elude  those  officers  of  the 
Tribunal  who  must  endorse  their  passage  at 
Piaja. 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Thus  about  sunset  Demetrios  waited  the  ship's 
coming,  alone  upon  the  Needle.  This  promontory 
is  like  a  Titan's  finger  of  black  rock  thrust  out 
into  the  water.  The  day  was  perishing,  and  the 
querulous  sea  before  Demetrios  was  an  unresting 
welter  of  gold  and  blood. 

He  thought  of  how  he  had  won  safely  through 
a  horde  of  dangers,  and  the  gross  man  chuckled. 
He  considered  the  unquestioned  rulership  of  ev- 
ery person  near  Demetrios  which  awaited  him 
oversea,  and  chiefly  he  thought  of  Melicent  whom 
he  loved  even  better  than  he  did  the  power  to 
sneer  at  everything  the  world  contained.  And 
the  proconsul  chuckled. 

"For  I  owe  very  much  to  Messire  de  la  Foret," 
he  said  aloud.  "I  owe  far  more  than  I  can  esti- 
mate. For  by  this  those  lackeys  will  have  slain 
Messire  de  la  Foret  or  else  they  will  have  taken 
Messire  de  la  Foret  to  King  Theodoret,  who  will 
piously  make  an  end  of  him.  And  either  way,  I 
shall  enjoy  tranquillity  and  shall  possess  my  Meli- 
cent until  I  die.  Decidedly,  I  owe  a  deal  to  this 
self-satisfied  tall  fool." 

[106] 


DEMETRIOS          MEDITATES 

Thus  he  contended  with  his  irritation.  It  may 
be  that  the  man  was  never  sane ;  it  is  certain  that 
the  mainspring  of  his  least  action  was  an  inor- 
dinate pride.  Now  hatred  quickened,  spreading 
from  a  flicker  of  distaste;  and  his  faculties  were 
stupefied,  as  though  he  faced  a  girdling  conflagra- 
tion. It  was  not  possible  to  hate  adequately  this 
Perion  who  had  struck  Demetrios  of  Anatolia 
and  perhaps  was  not  yet  dead;  nor  could  Deme- 
trios think  of  any  sufficing  requital  for  this  Perion 
who  dared  to  be  so  young  and  handsome  when 
many  other  people  were  neither,  this  Perion 
whom  Melicent  had  loved  and  loved  to-day.  And 
Demetrios  of  Anatolia  had  fought  with  a  charmed 
sword  against  a  person  such  as  this,  safe  as  an 
angler  matched  against  a  minnow;  and  Deme- 
trios of  Anatolia,  now  at  the  last,  accepted  alms 
from  what  had  been  until  to-day  a  pertinacious 
gnat.  Demetrios  was  physically  shaken  by  dis- 
gust at  the  situation,  and  in  the  sunset's  glare  his 
swarthy  countenance  showed  like  that  of  Belial 
among  the  damned. 

"The  life  of  Melicent  hangs  on  my  safe  return 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

to  Nacumera.  .  .  .  Ey,  what  is  that  to  me !"  the 
proconsul  cried  aloud.  "The  thought  of  Melicent 
is  sweeter  than  the  thought  of  any  god.  It  is  not 
sweet  enough  to  bribe  me  into  living  as  this  Pe- 
rion's  debtor." 

So  when  the  ship  touched  at  the  Needle,  a  half- 
hour  later,  that  spur  of  rock  was  vacant.  Deme- 
trios  had  untethered  his  horse,  had  thrown  away 
his  sword  and  other  armour,  and  had  torn  his 
garments ;  afterward  he  rolled  in  the  first  puddle 
he  discovered.  Thus  he  set  out  afoot,  in  grimy 
rags — for  no  one  marks  a  beggar  upon  the  high- 
way— and  thus  he  came  again  into  the  realm  of 
King  Theodoret,  where  certainly  it  did  not  occur 
to  anybody  to  look  for  him. 

With  the  advantage  of  a  quiet  advent,  as  was 
quickly  proven,  he  found  no  check  for  a  notorious 
leave-taking. 


[108] 


VI 

HOW  A  MINSTREL  CAME  TO  SAN*  ALESSANDRO 

DEMETRIOS  came  to  Megaris  where 
Perion  lay  fettered  in  the  Castle  of  San' 
Alessandro,  then  a  new  building.  Pe- 
rion's  trial,  condemnation,  and  so  on,  had  con- 
sumed the  better  part  of  an  hour,  on  account  of 
the  drunkenness  of  one  of  the  Inquisitors,  who 
had  vexatiously  impeded  these  formalities  by 
singing  love-songs;  but  in  the  end  it  had  been 
salutarily  arranged  that  the  Comte  de  la  Foret  be 
torn  apart  by  four  horses  upon  the  St.  Richard's 
day  ehsuing. 

Demetrios,  having  gleaned  this  knowledge  in  a 
pothouse,  purchased  a  stout  file,  a  scarlet  cap  and 
a  lute.  Ambrogio  Bracciolini,  head-gaoler  at  the 
fortress — so  the  gossips  told  Demetrios — had 
been  a  jongleur  in  youth,  and  minstrels  were  al- 
ways welcome  guests  at  San'  Alessandro. 

The  gaoler  was  a  very  fat  man  with  icy  little 
[109] 


THE       SOUL       OF       M  E  L  I  C  E  N  T 

eyes.  Demetrios  took  his  measure  to  a  hair's 
breadth  as  this  Bracciolini  straddled  in  the  door- 
way. 

Demetrios  had  assumed  an  admirable  air  of 
simplicity. 

"God  give  you  joy,  messire,"  he  said,  with  a 
simper ;  "I  come  bringing  a  precious  balsam  which 
cures  all  sorts  of  ills,  and  heals  the  troubles  both 
of  body  and  mind.  For  what  is  better  than  to 
have  a  pleasant  companion  to  sing  and  tell  merry 
tales,  songs  and  facetious  histories?" 

"You  appear  to  be  something  of  a  fool,"  Brac- 
ciolini considered,  "but  all  do  not  sleep  who  snore. 
Come,  tell  me  what  are  your  accomplishments." 

"I  can  play  the  lute,  the  violin,  the  flageolet, 
the  harp,  the  syrinx  and  the  regals,"  the  other 
replied;  "also  the  Spanish  penola  that  is  struck 
with  a  quill,  the  organistrum  that  a  wheel  turns 
round,  the  wait  so  delightful,  the  rebeck  so  en- 
chanting, the  little  gigue  that  chirps  up  on  high, 
and  the  great  horn  that  booms  like  thunder." 

Bracciolini  said:  "That  is  something.  But 
can  you  throw  knives  into  the  air  and  catch  them 

[no] 


A       MINSTREL       COMES 

without  cutting  your  fingers?  Can  you  balance 
chairs  and  do  tricks  with  string?  or  imitate  the 
cries  of  birds?  or  throw  a  somersault  and  walk 
on  your  head?  Ha,  I  thought  not.  The  Gay 
Science  is  dying  out,  and  young  practitioners  neg- 
lect these  subtile  points.  It  was  not  so  in  my 
day.  However,  you  may  come  in." 

So  when  night  fell  Demetrios  and  Bracciolini 
sat  snug  and  sang  of  love,  of  joy,  and  arms.  The 
fire  burned  bright  and  the  floor  was  well  covered 
with  gaily  tinted  mats.  White  wines  and  red 
were  on  the  table. 

Presently  they  turned  to  canzons  of  a  more  in- 
decorous nature.  Demetrios  sang  the  loves  of 
Douzi  and  Ishtar,  which  the  gaoler  found  re- 
markable. He  said  so  and  crossed  himself. 
"Man,  man,  you  must  have  been  afishing  in  the 
mid-pit  of  hell  to  net  such  filth." 

"I  learned  it  in  Nacumera,"  said  Demetrios, 
"when  I  was  a  prisoner  there  with  Messire  de 
la  Foret.  It  was  a  favourite  song  of  his." 

"Ay?"  said  Bracciolini.  He  looked  at  Deme- 
trios very  hard  and  pursed  his  lips  as  if  to  whistle. 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

The  gaoler  scented  a  bribe  from  afar,  but  the  face 
of  Demetrios  was  all  vacant  cheerfulness. 

Bracciolini  said,  idly:  "So  you  served  under 
him?  I  remember  that  he  was  taken  by  the 
heathen.  A  woman  ransomed  him,  they  say." 

Demetrios,  able  to  tell  a  tale  against  any  man, 
told  now  the  tale  of  Melicent's  immolation,  speak- 
ing with  vivacity  and  truthfulness  in  all  points 
save  that  he  represented  himself  to  have  been  one 
of  the  ransomed  Free  Companions. 

Bracciolini's  careful  epilogue  was  that  the  pro- 
consul had  acted  foolishly  in  not  keeping  the  em- 
eralds. 

"He  gave  his  enemy  a  weapon  against  him," 
Bracciolini  said,  and  waited. 

"Oh,  but  that  weapon  was  never  used.  Sire 
Perion  found  service  at  once  under  King  Theo- 
doret,  you  will  remember.  Therefore  Sire  Pe- 
rion hid  away  these  emeralds  against  future  need 
— under  an  oak  in  Sannazaro,  he  told  me.  I  sup- 
pose they  lie  there  yet/' 

"Humph !"  said  Bracciolini.  He  was  silent  for 
a  while.  Demetrios  was  adjusting  the  strings 

[112] 


A       MINSTREL       COMES 

of  the  lute,  not  looking  at  him.  "There  were 
eighteen  of  them,  you  tell  me?  and  all  fine 
stones?" 

"Ey? — oh,  the  emeralds?  Yes,  they  were 
flawless,  messire.  The  smallest  was  larger  than 
a  robin's  egg.  But  I  recall  another  song  we 
learned  at  Nacumera — " 

Demetrios  sang  the  loves  of  Lucius  and  Fotis. 
Bracciolini  grunted,  "Admirable"  in  an  ab- 
stracted fashion,  muttered  something  about  the 
duties  of  his  office,  and  left  the  room.  Demetrios 
heard  him  lock  the  door  outside  and  waited  stol- 
idly. 

Presently  Bracciolini  returned  in  full  armour, 
a  naked  sword  in  his  hand. 

"My  man," — and  his  voice  rasped — "I  believe 
you  to  be  a  rogue.  I  believe  that  you  are  con- 
triving the  escape  of  this  infamous  Comte  de  la 
Foret.  I  believe  you  are  attempting  to  bribe  me 
into  conniving  at  his  escape.  I  shall  do  nothing 
of  the  sort,  because  in  the  first  place,  it  would  be 
an  abominable  violation  of  my  oath  of  office,  and 
in  the  second,  it  would  result  in  my  being  hanged." 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

"Messire,  I  swear  to  you — !"  Demetrios  cried, 
in  excellently  feigned  perturbation. 

"And  in  addition,  I  believe  you  have  lied  to 
me  throughout.  I  do  not  believe  you  ever  saw 
this  Comte  de  la  Foret.  I  very  certainly  do  not 
believe  you  are  a  friend  of  this  Comte  de  la 
Foret's,  because  in  that  event  you  would  never 
have  been  mad  enough  to  admit  it.  The  state- 
ment is  enough  to  hang  you  twice  over.  In  short, 
the  only  thing  I  can  be  certain  of  is  that  you  are 
out  of  your  wits." 

"They  say  that  I  am  moonstruck,"  Demetrios 
answered ;  "but  I  will  tell  you  a  secret.  There  is 
a  wisdom  lies  beyond  the  moon,  and  it  is  because 
of  this  that  the  stars  are  glad  and  admirable." 

"That  appears  to  me  to  be  nonsense,"  the  gaoler 
commented ;  and  he  went  on :  "Now  I  am  going 
to  confront  you  with  Messire  de  la  Foret.  If 
your  story  prove  to  be  false,  it  will  be  the  worse 
for  you." 

"It  is  a  true  tale.  But  sensible  men  close  the 
door  to  him  who  always  speaks  the  truth." 

"These  reflections   are  not   to  the  purpose," 


A       MINSTREL       COMES 

Bracciolini  submitted,  and  continued  his  argu- 
ment: "In  that  event  Messire  de  la  Foret  will 
undoubtedly  be  moved  by  your  fidelity  in  having 
sought  him  out  whom  all  the  rest  of  the  world 
has  forsaken.  You  will  remember  that  this  same 
fidelity  has  touched  me  to  such  an  extent  that  I 
am  granting  you  an  interview  with  your  former 
master.  He  will  also  reflect  that  a  man  once 
torn  in  four  pieces  has  no  particular  use  for  em- 
eralds. He  will,  I  repeat,  be  moved.  In  his  emo- 
tion, in  his  gratitude,  he  will  probably  reveal  to 
you  the  location  of  those  eighteen  stones,  all  flaw- 
less. If  he  should  not  evince  a  sufficiency  of 
natural  gratitude,  I  tell  you  candidly,  it  will  be  the 
worse  for  you.  And  now  get  on." 

He  pointed  the  way  and  Demetrios  cringed 
through  the  door.  Bracciolini  followed  with 
drawn  sword.  The  corridors  were  deserted. 
The  head-gaoler  had  seen  to  that. 

His  position  was  simple.  Armed,  he  was  cer- 
tainly not  afraid  of  any  combination  between  a 
weaponless  man  and  a  fettered  one.  If  this 
jongleur  had  lied  to  him,  Bracciolini  meant  to  kill 

[us] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

him  for  his  insolence.  Bracciolini's  own  haphaz- 
ard youth  had  taught  him  that  a  jongleur  had  no 
civil  rights,  was  a  creature  to  be  beaten,  robbed, 
or  stabbed  with  impunity. 

Upon  the  other  hand,  if  the  man's  tale  were 
true,  one  of  two  things  would  happen.  Either 
Perion  would  not  be  brought  to  tell  where  the 
emeralds  were  hidden,  in  which  event  Bracciolini 
would  kill  the  jongleur  for  his  bungling;  or  else 
the  prisoner  would  tell  everything  necessary,  in 
which  event  Bracciolini  would  kill  the  jongleur 
for  knowing  more  than  was  convenient.  This 
Bracciolini  had  an  honest  respect  for  gems  and 
considered  them  to  be  equally  misplaced  when 
under  an  oak  or  in  a  vagabond's  wallet. 

Consideration  of  such  avarice  may  possibly 
have  heartened  Demetrios  when  the  well-ar- 
moured gaoler  knelt  in  order  to  unlock  the  door 
of  Perion's  cell.  As  an  asp  leaps,  the  big  and 
supple  hands  of  the  proconsul  gripped  Braccio- 
lini's neck  from  behind  and  silenced  speech. 

Demetrios,  who  was  not  tall,  lifted  the  gaoler 
as  high  as  possible,  lest  the  beating  of  armoured 

[116] 


A       MINSTREL       COMES 

feet  upon  the  slabs  disturb  any  of  the  other  keep- 
ers, and  strangled  his  dupe  painstakingly.  The 
keys,  as  Demetrios  reflected,  were  luckily  at- 
tached to  the  belt  of  this  writhing  thing,  and  in 
consequence  had  not  jangled  on  the  floor.  It  was 
an  inaudible  affair  and  consumed  in  all  some  ten 
minutes. 


VII 

HOW    THEY    CRIED   QUITS 

DEMETRIOS  went  into  Perion's  cell  and 
filed  away  the  chains  of  Perion  of  the 
Forest.     Demetrios  thrust  the  gaoler's 
corpse  under  the  bed  and  washed  away  all  stains 
before  the  door  of  the  cell,  so  that  no  awkward 
traces    might    remain.     Demetrios    locked    the 
door  of  an  unoccupied  apartment  and  grinned  as 
Old  Legion  must  have  done  when  Judas  fell. 

More  thanks  to  Bracciolini's  precautions,  these 
two  got  safely  from  the  confines  of  San'  Alessan- 
dro  and  afterward  from  the  city  of  Megaris. 
They  trudged  on  a  familiar  road.  Perion  would 
have  spoken,  but  Demetrios  growled,  "Not  now, 
messire."  They  came  by  night  to  that  pass  in 
Sannazaro  which  Perion  had  held  against  a  score 
of  men-at-arms. 

Demetrios  turned.  Moonlight  illuminated 
their  faces  and  showed  the  face  of  Demetrios  as 

[118] 


NOW      THEY       CRY       QUITS 

sly  and  leering.  It  was  less  the  countenance  of 
a  proud  lord  than  a  carved  head  on  some  old 
water-spout.  "Messire  de  la  Foret,"  Demetrios 
said,  "now  we  cry  quits.  Here  our  ways  part  till 
one  of  us  has  killed  the  other,  as  one  of  us  must 
surely  do." 

You  saw  that  Perion  was  tremulous  because  of 
his  fury.  "You  knave,"  he  said,  "out  of  your 
pride  you  have  imperilled  your  accursed  life — 
your  life  on  which  the  life  of  Melicent  depends! 
You  must  need  delay  and  rescue  me,  while  your 
spawn  inflicted  hideous  infamies  on  Melicent! 
Oh,  I  had  never  hated  you  until  to-night !" 

Demetrios  was  pleased. 

"Behold  the  increment,"  he  said,  "of  the  turned 
cheek.  Be  satisfied,  O  young  and  zealous  ser- 
vitor of  Love!  I  am  alone,  unarmed  and  penni- 
less, among  a  people  whom  I  have  never  been  at 
pains  even  to  despise.  Presently  I  shall  be  taken 
by  this  vermin,  and  afterward  I  shall  be  burned 
alive.  Theodoret  is  quite  resolved  to  make  of 
me  a  candle  which  will  light  his  way  to  heaven." 

The  two  men  talked  together,  leagued  against 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

all  Christendom.  Demetrios  had  thirty  sequins 
and  Perion  nothing  at  all.  Then  Perion  showed 
the  ring  which  Melicent  had  given  him,  as  a  love- 
token,  long  ago,  when  she  was  young  and  igno- 
rant of  misery.  He  valued  it  as  he  did  nothing 
else. 

"Oh,  very  dear  to  me  is  this  dear  ring  which 
once  touched  a  finger  of  that  dear  young  Melicent 
whom  you  know  nothing  of !  Its  gold  is  my  lost 
youth,  the  gems  of  it  are  the  tears  she  has  shed 
because  of  me.  Kiss  it,  Messire  Demetrios,  as  I 
do  now  for  the  last  time.  It  is  a  favour  you  have 
earned." 

Then  these  two  went  as  mendicants — for  no 
one  marks  a  beggar  upon  the  highway — into  Na- 
renta,  and  sold  this  ring,  in  order  that  Demetrios 
might  be  conveyed  oversea  and  that  the  life  of 
Melicent  might  be  preserved.  They  found  an- 
other vessel  which  was  about  to  venture  into 
heathendom.  Their  gold  was  given  to  the  cap- 
tain; and,  in  exchange,  the  bargain  ran,  his  ship 
would  touch  at  Assignano  a  little  after  the  ensu- 
ing dawn  and  take  Demetrios  aboard. 

[120] 


NOW       THEY       CRY       QUITS 

Thus  the  two  lovers  of  Melicent  foreplanned  the 
future  and  did  not  admit  into  account  vagarious 
Dame  Chance. 


[12!] 


VIII 

HOW    FLAMBERGE   WAS    LOST 

THESE   hunted  men  spent  the  following 
night  upon  the  Needle,  since  there  it  was 
not  possible  for  an  adversary  to  surprise 
them.     Perion's  was  the  earlier  watch,  until  mid- 
night, and  during  it  Demetrios  slept.     Then  the 
proconsul  took  his  equitable  turn.     When  Perion 
awakened  the  hour  was  after  dawn. 

What  Perion  noted  first,  and  within  thirty  feet 
of  him,  was  a  tall  galley  with  blue  and  yellow 
sails.  He  perceived  that  the  promontory  was 
thronged  with  heathen  sailors,  who  were  unlad- 
ing the  ship  of  various  bales  and  chests.  Deme- 
trios, now  in  the  costume  of  his  native  country, 
stood  among  them  giving  orders.  And  it 
seemed,  too,  to  Perion,  in  the  moment  of  waking, 
that  Dame  Melusine,  whom  Perion  had  loved  so 
long  ago,  stood  among  them;  yet,  now  that  he 
rose  and  faced  Demetrios,  she  was  not  visible  any- 
where, and  Perion  wondered  dimly  over  his  wild 

[122] 


"Demetrios  stood  among  them  giving  orders' 


NOW      FLAMBERGE      IS      LOST 

dream  that  she  had  been  there  at  all.     But  more 
importunate  matters  were  in  hand. 

The  proconsul  grinned  malevolently. 

"This  is  a  ship  that  once  was  mine,"  he  said. 
"Do  you  not  find  it  odd  that  Euthyclos  here  should 
have  loved  me  sufficiently  to  hazard  his  life  in 
order  to  come  in  search  of  me?  Personally,  I 
find  it  extremely  droll.  For  the  rest,  you  slept 
so  soundly,  Messire  de  la  Foret,  that  I  was  un- 
willing to  waken  you.  Then,  too,  such  was  the 
advice  of  a  person  who  has  some  influence  with 
the  water-folk,  people  say,  and  who  was  perhaps 
the  means  of  bringing  this  ship  hither  so  oppor- 
tunely. I  do  not  know.  She  is  gone  now,  you 
see,  intent  as  always  on  her  own  ends.  Well, 
well!  her  ways  are  not  our  ways,  and  it  is  wiser 
not  to  meddle  with  them." 

But  Perion,  unarmed  and  thus  surrounded,  un- 
derstood only  that  he  was  lost. 

"Messire  Demetrios,"  he  said,  "I  never  thought 
to  ask  a  favour  of  you.  I  ask  it  now.  For  the 
ring's  sake,  give  me  at  least  a  knife,  Messire 
Demetrios.  Let  me  die  fighting." 

[123] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

"Why,  but  who  spoke  of  fighting?  For  the 
ring's  sake,  I  have  caused  the  ship  to  be  rifled 
of  what  valuables  they  had  aboard.  It  is  not 
much,  but  it  is  all  I  have.  And  you  are  to  ac- 
cept my  apologies  for  the  miscellaneous  nature 
of  the  cargo,  Messire  de  la  Foret — consisting,  as 
it  does,  of  armours  and  gems,  camphor  and  am- 
bergris, carpets  of  raw  silk,  teakwood  and  pre- 
cious metals,  rugs  of  Yemen  leather,  enamels,  and 
I  hardly  know  what  else  besides.  For  Euthyclos, 
as  you  will  readily  understand,  was  compelled  to 
masquerade  as  a  merchant-trader/' 

Perion  shook  his  head. 

"You  offer  enough  to  make  me  a  wealthy  man. 
But  I  would  prefer  a  sword." 

At  that  Demetrios  grimaced. 

"I  had  hoped  to  get  off  more  cheaply."  He  un- 
buckled the  cross-handled  sword  which  he  now 
wore  and  handed  it  to  Perion.  "This  is  Flam- 
berge,"  he  said,  "that  magic  blade  which  Galas 
made  in  our  forefathers'  heyday  for  Charle- 
maigne.  It  is  as  dear  to  me  as  your  ring  was 
to  you.  The  man  who  wields  it  is  reputed  to  be 

[124] 


NOW      FLAMBERGE      IS      LOST 

unconquerable.  I  do  not  know  about  that,  but 
in  any  event  I  yield  Flamberge  to  you  as  a  free 
gift.  I  might  have  known  it  was  the  only  gift 
you  would  accept."  His  face  lighted.  "Come 
presently  and  fight  with  me  for  Melicent.  Per- 
haps it  will  amuse  me  to  ride  out  to  battle  and 
know  I  shall  not  live  to  see  the  sunset.  Already 
it  seems  laughable  that  you  will  probably  kill  me 
with  this  very  sword  which  I  am  touching 


now/' 


The  champions  faced  each  other,  Demetrios  in 
a  half-wistful  mirth,  and  Perion  in  half-grudging 
pity.  Long  and  long  they  looked. 

Demetrios  shrugged. 

"For  such  as  I  am,  to  love  is  dangerous.  For 
such  as  I  am,  nor  fire  nor  meteor  hurls  a  mightier 
bolt  than  Aphrodite's  shaft,  or  marks  its  passage 
by  more  direful  ruin.  But  you  do  not  know  Eu- 
ripides?— a  fidgety-footed  liar,  Messire  the 
Comte,  who  occasionally  blunders  into  the  clum- 
siest truths.  Yes,  he  is  perfectly  right ;  all  things 
this  goddess  laughingly  demolishes  while  she  es- 
says haphazard  flights  about  the  world  as  a  bee 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

does.     And,  like  the  bee,  she  wilfully  dispenses 
honey,  and  at  other  times  a  wound." 

Said  Perion,  who  was  no  scholar:  "I  glory 
in  our  difference.  For  such  as  I  am,  love  is  suf- 
ficient proof  that  man  was  fashioned  in  God's  im- 
age." 

"Ey,  there  is  no  accounting  for  a  taste  in  apho- 
risms," Demetrios  replied.  He  said,  "Now  I  em- 
bark." Yet  he  delayed,  and  spoke  with  unac- 
customed awkwardness.  "Come,  you  who  have 
been  generous  till  this !  will  you  compel  me  to  de- 
sert you  here — quite  penniless  ?" 

Said  Perion:  "I  may  accept  a  sword  from 
you.  I  do  it  gladly.  But  I  may  not  accept  any- 
thing else." 

"That  would  have  been  my  answer.  I  am  a 
lucky  man,"  Demetrios  said,  "to  have  provoked 
an  enemy  so  worthy  of  my  opposition.  We  two 
have  fought  an  honest  and  notable  duel,  wherein 
our  weapons  were  not  made  of  steel.  I  pray  you 
harry  me  as  quickly  as  you  may;  and  then  we 
will  fight  with  swords  till  I  am  rid  of  you  or  you 
of  me." 

[126] 


NOW      FLAMBERGE      IS      LOST 

"Assuredly,  I  shall  not  fail  you/'  answered  Pe- 
rion. 

These  two  embraced  and  kissed  each  other. 
Afterward  Demetrios  went  into  his  own  country, 
and  Perion  remained,  girt  with  the  magic  sword 
Flamberge.  It  was  not  all  at  once  Perion  recol- 
lected that  the  wearer  of  Flamberge  is  unconquer- 
able, if  ancient  histories  are  to  be  believed,  for  in 
deduction  Perion  was  leisurely. 

Now  on  a  sudden  he  perceived  that  Demetrios, 
out  of  his  pride,  had  flung  control  of  the  future 
to  Perion,  as  one  gives  money  to  a  sot,  entirely 
prescient  of  how  it  will  be  used.  Perion  had  his 
moment  of  bleak  rage. 

"I  will  not  cog  the  dice  to  my  advantage  any 
more  than  you!"  said  Perion.  He  drew  the 
sword  of  Charlemaigne  and  cast  it  from  him  as 
far  as  even  he  could  cast,  and  the  sea  swallowed 
it.  "Now  God  alone  is  arbiter!"  cried  Perion, 
"and  I  am  not  afraid." 

He  stood  a  pauper  and  a  friendless  man.  Be- 
side his  thigh  hung  a  sorcerer's  scabbard  of  blue 
leather,  curiously  ornamented,  but  it  was  emptied. 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Perion  laughed  exultingly  because  he  was  elate 
with  dreams  of  the  future.  And  for  the  rest,  he 
was  aware  it  is  less  grateful  to  remember  plaudits 
than  to  recall  the  exercise  of  that  in  us  which  is 
not  merely  human. 


IX 

HOW  PERION   GOT  UNEXPECTED  AID 

THEN  Perion  turned  from  the  Needle  of 
Assignano,  and  went  westward  into  the 
Forest  of  Columbiers.     He  had  no  plan. 
He  wandered  in  the  high  woods  that  had  never 
yet  been  felled  or  ordered,  as  a  beast  does  in 
watchful  care  of  hunters. 

He  came  presently  to  a  glade  which  the  sun- 
light flooded  without  obstruction.  There  was  a 
fountain  in  this  place,  which  oozed  from  under 
an  iron-coloured  boulder  incrusted  with  grey 
lichens  and  green  moss.  Upon  the  rock  a  woman 
sat,  her  chin  propped  by  one  hand,  and  appeared 
to  consider  remote  and  pleasant  happenings. 
She  was  clothed  in  white  throughout,  with  metal 
bands  about  her  neck  and  arms ;  and  her  loosened 
hair,  which  was  coloured  like  straw,  and  was  as 
pale  as  the  hair  of  children,  glittered  about  her, 
[129] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

and  shone  frostily  where  it  lay  outspread  upon  the 
rock  behind  her. 

She  turned  to  him  without  any  haste  or  sur- 
prise, and  Perion  saw  that  this  woman  was  Dame 
Melusine,  whom  he  had  loved  to  his  own  hurt 
(as  you  have  heard)  when  Perion  served  King 
Helmas.  She  did  not  speak  for  a  long  while, 
but  lazily  considered  Perion's  honest  face  in  a 
sort  of  whimsical  regret  for  the  adoration  she  no 
longer  found  there. 

"Then  it  was  really  you,"  he  said,  in  wonder, 
"whom  I  saw  talking  with  Demetrios  when  I 
awakened  to-day." 

"You  may  be  sure,"  she  answered,  "that  talk 
was  in  no  way  injurious  to  you.  Ah,  no,  had  I 
been  elsewhere,  Perion,  I  think  you  would  have 
been  in  Paradise  by  this."  Then  Melusine  fell 
again  into  meditation.  "And  so  you  do  not  any 
longer  either  love  or  hate  me,  Perion?"  Here 
was  an  odd  echo  of  the  complaint  Demetrios  had 
made. 

"That  I  once  loved  you  is  a  truth  which  neither 
of  us,  I  think,  may  ever  quite  forget,"  said  Perion, 

[130] 


NOW        PERION        GETS        AID 

very  quiet.  "I  alone  know  how  utterly  I  loved 
you — no,  it  was  not  I  who  loved  you  but  a  boy 
that  is  dead  now.  King's  daughter,  all  of  stone, 
O  cruel  woman  and  hateful,  O  sleek,  smiling  trait- 
ress! to-day  no  man  remembers  how  utterly  I 
loved  you,  for  the  years  are  as  a  mist  between 
the  heart  of  that  dead  boy  and  me,  so  that  I  may 
no  longer  see  the  boy's  heart  clearly.  Yes,  I  have 
forgotten  much.  .  .  .  Yet  even  to-day  there  is 
that  in  me  which  is  faithful  to  you,  and  I  cannot 
give  you  the  hatred  which  your  treachery  has 
earned." 

Melusine  spoke  shrewdly.  She  had  a  sweet, 
shrill  voice. 

"But  I  loved  you,  Perion — oh,  yes,  in  part  I 
loved  you,  just  as  one  cannot  help  but  love  a  large 
and  faithful  mastiff.  But  you  were  tedious,  you 
annoyed  me  by  your  egotism.  Yes,  my  friend, 
you  think  too  much  of  what  you  owe  to  Perion's 
honour;  you  are  perpetually  squaring  accounts 
with  heaven,  and  you  are  too  intent  on  keeping 
the  balance  in  your  favour  to  make  a  satisfactory 
lover."  You  saw  that  Melusine  was  smiling  in 

[130 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

the  shadow  of  her  pale  hair.  "And  yet  you  are 
very  droll  when  you  are  unhappy,"  she  said,  as 
of  two  minds. 

He  answered:  "I  am,  as  heaven  made  me,  a 
being  of  mingled  nature.  So  I  remember  with- 
out distaste  old  happenings  which  now  seem 
scarcely  true  to  me.  I  cannot  quite  believe  that 
it  was  you  and  I  who  were  so  happy  when  youth 
was  common  to  us.  ...  O  Melusine,  I  have  al- 
most forgotten  that  if  the  world  were  searched 
between  the  sunrise  and  the  sunsetting  the  Melu- 
sine I  loved  would  not  be  found.  I  only  know 
that  a  woman  has  usurped  the  voice  of  Melusine, 
and  that  this  woman's  eyes  also  are  blue,  and  that 
this  woman  smiles  as  Melusine  was  used  to  smile 
when  I  was  very  young.  I  walk  with  ghosts, 
king's  daughter,  and  I  am  none  the  happier." 

"Ay,  Perion,"  she  wisely  answered,  "for  the 
spring  is  at  hand,  intent  upon  an  ageless  magic. 
I  am  no  less  comely  than  I  was,  and  my  heart, 
I  think,  is  tenderer.  You  are  yet  young,  and  you 
are  very  beautiful,  my  brave  mastiff.  .  .  .  And 
neither  of  us  is  moved  at  all !  For  us  the  spring 


NOW        PERION        GETS        AID 

is  only  a  dotard  sorcerer  who  has  forgotten  the 
spells  of  yesterday.  I  think  that  it  is  pitiable, 
although  I  would  not  have  it  otherwise."  She 
waited,  fairy-like  and  wanton,  seeming  to  pre- 
meditate a  delicate  mischief. 

He  answered,  sighing,  "No,  I  would  not  have 
it  otherwise." 

Then  presently  Melusine  arose. 

"You  are  a  hunted  man,  unarmed — oh,  yes,  I 
know.  Demetrios  talked  freely,  having  good  and 
ancient  reasons  to  trust  me.  Besides,  it  was  not 
for  nothing  that  Pressina  was  my  mother,  and  I 
know  many  things,  pilfering  light  from  the  past 
to  shed  it  upon  the  future.  Come  now  with  me  to 
Brunbelois.  I  am  too  deeply  in  your  debt,  my 
Perion.  For  the  sake  of  that  boy  who  is  dead — 
as  you  tell  me — you  may  honourably  accept  of  me 
a  horse,  arms,  and  a  purse,  because  I  loved  that 
boy  after  my  fashion." 

"I  take  your  bounty  gladly,"  he  replied; 
and  he  added  conscientiously:  "I  consider  that 
I  am  not  at  liberty  to  refuse  of  anybody  any  hon- 
est means  of  serving  my  lady  Melicent." 

[133] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Melusine  parted  her  lips  as  if  about  to  speak, 
and  then  seemed  to  think  better  of  it.  It  is  prob- 
able she  was  already  informed  concerning  Meli- 
cent;  she  certainly  asked  no  questions.  Melu- 
sine only  shrugged,  and  laughed  afterward,  and 
they  turned  toward  Brunbelois.  At  times  a  shaft 
of  sunlight  would  fall  on  her  pale  hair  and  con- 
vert it  into  silver,  as  these  two  went  through 
the  high  woods  that  had  never  yet  been  felled  or 
ordered. 


[134] 


PART  FOUR 

AHASUERUS 

Of  how  a  knave  hath  late  compassion 

On  Melicent's  forlorn  condition; 

For  which  he  saith  as  ye  shall  after  hear: 

"Dame,  since  that  game  we  play  costeth  too  dear, 

My  truth  I  plight,  I  shall  you  no  more  grieve 

By  my  behest,  and  here  I  take  my  leave 

As  of  the  fairest,  truest  and  best  wife 

That  ever  yet  I  knew  in  all  my  life." 


HOW  DEMETRIOS  HELD  THE  QUEEN'S  STAIRWAY 

IT  is  a  tale  which  they  narrate  in  Poictesme, 
telling  how  Demetrios  returned  into  the 
country  of  the  pagans  and  found  all  matters 
there  as  he  had  left  them.  They  relate  how 
Melicent  was  summoned. 

And  the  tale  tells  how  upon  the  stairway  by 
which  you  descended  from  the  Women's  Garden 
to  the  citadel — people  called  it  the  Queen's  Stair- 
way because  it  was  builded  by  Queen  Rudabeh 
very  long  ago  when  the  Emperor  Zal  held  Na- 
cumera — Demetrios  waited  with  a  naked  sword. 
Below  were  four  of  his  soldiers,  picked  warriors. 
This  stairway  was  of  white  marble,  and  a  sphinx 
carved  in  green  porphyry  guarded  each  balus- 
trade. 

"Now  that  we  have  our  audience/'  Demetrios 
said,  "come,  let  the  games  begin." 

One  of  the  soldiers  spoke.     It  was  that  Eu- 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

thyclos  who  (as  you  have  heard)  had  ventured 
into  Christendom  to  rescue  the  proconsul  at  the 
hazard  of  his  own  life.  He  was  a  man  of  the 
West  Provinces  and  had  followed  Demetrios'  for- 
tunes since  boyhood. 

"King  of  the  Age/'  cried  Euthyclos, .  "it  is 
grim  hearing  that  we  must  fight  with  you.  But 
since  your  will  is  our  will,  we  must  endure  this 
testing,  although  we  find  it  bitter  as  aloes  and 
hot  as  coals.  Dear  lord  and  master,  none  has 
put  food  to  his  lips  for  whose  sake  we  would 
harm  you  willingly,  and  we  will  weep  to-night 
when  your  ghost  passes  over  and  through  us." 

Demetrios  answered :  "Rise  up  and  leave  this 
idleness.  It  is  I  that  will  clip  the  ends  of  my 
hair  to-night  for  the  love  of  you,  my  stalwart 
knaves.  Such  weeping  as  is  done  your  wounds 
will  perform." 

At  that  they  addressed  themselves  to  battle 
and  Melicent  perceived  she  was  witnessing 
no  child's  play.  The  soldiers  had  attacked  in 
unison  and  before  the  onslaught  Demetrios 
stepped  lightly  back.  But  his  sword  flashed  as 


A       STAIRWAY       IS       HELD 

he  moved,  and  with  a  grunt  Demetrios,  leaning 
far  forward,  dug  deep  into  the  throat  of  his  fore- 
most assailant.  The  sword  penetrated  and 
caught  in  a  link  of  the  gold  chain  about  the  fel- 
low's neck,  so  that  Demetrios  was  forced  to 
wrench  the  weapon  free,  twisting  it,  as  the  dying 
man  stumbled  backward.  Prostrate,  he  did  not 
cry  out,  but  only  writhed  and  gave  a  curious  bub- 
bling noise  as  his  soul  passed. 

"Come,"  Demetrios  said,  "come  now,  you  oth- 
ers, and  see  what  you  can  win  of  me.  I  warn 
you  it  will  be  dearly  purchased." 

And  Melicent  turned  away,  hiding  her  eyes. 
She  was  obscurely  conscious  that  a  wanton  butch- 
ery went  on,  hearing  its  blows  and  groans  as 
if  from  a  great  distance,  while  she  entreated  the 
Virgin  for  deliverance  from  this  foul  place. 


[139] 


II 

HOW    DEMETRIOS    STRUGGLED 

THEN  a  hand  fell  upon  Melicent's  shoul- 
der,   rousing    her.     It    was    Demetrios. 
He  breathed  quickly,  but  his  voice  was 
gentle. 

"It  is  enough,"  he  said.  "I  shall  not  greatly 
need  Flamberge  when  I  encounter  that  ruddy 
innocent  who  is  so  dear  to  you." 

He  broke  off.  Then  he  spoke  again,  half  jeer- 
ing, half  wistful. 

"And  I  had  hoped  that  you  would  look  on  and 
admire  my  cunning  at  swordplay!  I  was  anx- 
ious to  seem  admirable  somehow  in  your  eyes. 
...  I  failed.  I  know  very  well  that  I  shall  al- 
ways fail.  I  know  that  Nacumera  will  fall,  that 
some  day  in  your  native  land  people  will  say 
That  aged  woman  yonder  was  once  the  wife  of 
Demetrios  of  Anatolia  who  was  pre-eminent 
among  the  heathen/  Then  they  will  tell  of  how 

[140] 


DEMETRIOS  STRUGGLES 

I  cleft  the  head  of  an  Emperor  who  had  likened 
me  to  Priapos  and  how  I  dragged  his  successor 
from  behind  an  arras  where  he  hid  from  me,  to  set 
him  upon  the  throne  I  did  not  care  to  take;  and 
they  will  tell  how  for  a  while  great  fortune  went 
with  me,  and  I  ruled  over  much  land  and  was 
dreaded  upon  the  wide  sea  and  raised  the  battle- 
cry  in  cities  that  were  not  my  own,  fearing  no- 
body. But  you  will  not  think  of  these  matters, 
you  will  think  only  of  your  children's  ailments, 
of  baking  and  sewing  and  weaving  tapestries, 
and  of  directing  little  household  tasks.  And  the 
spider  will  spin  her  web  in  my  helmet,  which  will 
hang  as  a  trophy  in  the  hall  of  Messire  de  la 
Foret." 

Then  he  walked  beside  her  into  the  Women's 
Garden,  keeping  silence  for  a  while.  He  seemed 
to  deliberate,  to  reach  a  decision.  All  at  once 
Demetrios  began  to  tell  of  that  magnanimous 
contest  which  he  had  fought  out  in  Theodoret's 
country  with  Perion  of  the  Forest. 

"To  do  the  long-legged  fellow  simple  justice," 
said  the  proconsul,  as  epilogue,  "there  is  no  hard- 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

ier  knight  alive.  I  shall  always  wonder  whether 
or  no  I  would  have  spared  him  had  the  water-de- 
mon's daughter  not  intervened  in  his  behalf.  Yes, 
I  have  had  some  previous  dealings  with  her. 
Perhaps  the  less  said  concerning  them,  the  bet- 
ter/' Demetrios  reflected  for  a  while,  rather 
sadly;  then  his  swart  face  cleared.  "Give  thanks, 
my  wife,  that  I  have  found  an  enemy  who  is  not 
unworthy  of  me.  He  will  come  soon,  I  think,  and 
we  will  fight  to  the  death.  I  hunger  for  that 
day." 

Now  praise  of  Perion,  however  worded,  was 
as  wine  to  her.  Demetrios  saw  as  much,  noted 
how  the  colour  in  her  cheeks  augmented  deli- 
cately, how  her  eyes  grew  kindlier.  It  was  his 
cue.  Thereafter  Demetrios  very  often  spoke  of 
Perion  in  that  locked  palace  where  no  echo  of 
the  outer  world  might  penetrate  except  at  the 
proconsul's  will.  He  told  her,  in  an  unfeigned 
admiration,  of  Perion's  courage  and  activity,  de- 
claring that  no  other  captain  since  the  days  of 
those  famous  generals,  Hannibal  and  Joshua, 
could  lay  claim  to  such  pre-eminence  in  general 


DEMETRIOS  STRUGGLES 

estimation;  and  he  narrated  how  the  Free  Com- 
panions had  ridden  through  many  kingdoms  at 
adventure,  serving  many  lords  with  valour  and 
always  fighting  applaudably.  To  talk  of  Perion 
delighted  her ;  it  was  with  such  bribes  that  Deme- 
trios  purchased  where  his  riches  did  not  avail; 
and  Melicent  no  longer  avoided  him. 

There  is  scope  here  for  compassion.  The 
man's  love,  if  it  be  possible  so  to  call  that  force 
which  mastered  him,  had  come  to  be  an  incessant 
malady.  It  poisoned  everything,  caused  him  to 
find  his  statecraft  tedious,  his  power  profitless, 
and  his  vices  gloomy.  But  chief  of  all  he  fretted 
over  the  standards  by  which  the  lives  of  Melicent 
and  Perion  were  guided.  Demetrios  thought 
these  criteria  comely,  he' had  discovered  them  to 
be  unshakable,  and  he  despairingly  knew  that  as 
long  as  he  trusted  in  the  judgment  heaven  gave 
him  they  must  always  appear  to  him  supremely 
idiotic.  To  bring  Melicent  to  his  own  level  or 
to  bring  himself  to  hers  was  equally  impossible. 
There  were  times  when  he  hated  her. 

Thus  the  months  passed,  and  the  happenings 

[143] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

of  a  year  were  chronicled ;  and  as  yet  neither  Pe- 
rion  nor  Ayrart  de  Montors  came  to  Nacumera, 
and  the  long  plain  before  the  citadel  stayed  ten- 
antless  save  for  the  jackals  crying  there  at  night. 
"I  wonder  that  my  enemies  do  not  come," 
Demetrios  said.  "It  cannot  be  they  have  for- 
gotten you  and  me.  That  is  impossible."  He 
frowned  and  sent  spies  into  Christendom. 


Ill 

HOW    MISERY    HELD    NACUMERA 

THEN  one  day  Demetrios  came  to  Meli- 
cent  in  a  surly  rage. 
"Rogues  all!"  he  grumbled.     "Oh,  I 
am  wasted  in  this  paltry  age.     Where  are  the 
giants  and  tyrants,  and  stalwart  single-hearted 
champions  of  yesterday?     Why,  they  are  dead, 
and  have  become  rotten  bones.     I  will  fight  no 
longer.     I  will  read  legends  instead,  for  life  now- 
adays is  no  longer  worthy  of  love  or  hatred." 

Melicent  questioned  him,  and  he  told  how  his 
spies  reported  that  the  Cardinal  de  Montors  at 
least  would  never  head  an  expedition  against 
Demetrios'  territories,  having  other  matters  in 
hand.  The  Pope  had  died  suddenly  in  the  course 
of  the  preceding  October  and  it  was  necessary  to 
name  his  successor.  The  College  of  Cardinals 
had  reached  no  decision  after  three  days'  ballot- 
ing. Then,  as  is  notorious,  Dame  Melusine,  as 

[  145  ] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

always  hand  in  glove  with  Ayrart  de  Montors, 
held  conference  with  the  bishop  who  inspected 
the  cardinals'  dinner. 

The  Cardinal  of  Genoa  received  on  the  fourth 
day  a  chicken  stuffed  with  a  deed  to  the  palaces 
of  Monticello  and  Soriano ;  the  Cardinal  of  Parma 
a  similarly  dressed  fowl  which  made  him  master 
of  the  bishop's  residence  at  Porto  with  its  furni- 
ture and  wine-cellar ;  while  the  Cardinals  Orsino, 
Savelli,  St.  Angelo  and  Colonna  were  served 
with  food  of  the  same  appetising  sort.  There 
was  an  end  to  indecision,  and  Ayrart  de  Montors 
had  presently  ascended  the  papal  throne  under 
the  title  of  Adrian  VII,  servant  to  the  servants 
of  God.  His  days  of  military  captaincy  were 
over. 

Demetrios  deplored  the  loss  of  a  formidable 
adversary,  and  jeered  at  the  fact  that  the  vicar- 
ship  of  heaven  had  been  settled  by  six  hens.  But 
he  particularly  fretted  over  other  news  his  spies 
had  brought,  which  was  the  information  that  Pe- 
rion  had  wedded  Dame  Melusine,  and  had  begot- 
ten two  lusty  children — Bertram  and  a  daughter 


NOW      NACUMERA      IS      HELD 

called  Blaniferte^and  now  enjoyed  the  opulence 
and  sovereignty  of  Brunbelois. 

Demetrios  told  this  unwillingly.  He  turned 
away  his  eyes  in  speaking,  and  doggedly  affected 
to  re-arrange  a  cushion,  so  that  he  might  not  see 
the  face  of  Melicent.  She  noted  his  action  and 
was  grateful. 

Demetrios  said,  bitterly:  "It  is  an  old  and 
tawdry  history.  He  has  forgotten  you,  Melicent, 
as  a  wise  man  will  always  put  aside  the  dreams 
of  his  youth.  To  Cynara  the  Fates  accord  but 
a  few  years;  a  wanton  Lyce  laughs,  cheats  her 
adorers,  and  outlives  the  crow.  There  is  an  un- 
intended moral  here — "  Demetrios  said:  "Yet 
you  do  not  forget." 

"I  know  nothing  of  this  Perion  you  tell  me 
of.  I  only  know  the  Perion  I  loved  has  not  for- 
gotten," answered  Melicent. 

And  Demetrios,  evincing  a  twinge  like  that  of 
gout,  demanded  her  reasons.  It  was  a  May 
morning,  very  hot  and  still,  and  they  sat  in  the 
Court  of  Stars. 

Said  Melicent:     "It  is  not  unlikely  that  the 

[147] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Perion  men  know  to-day  has  forgotten  me  and 
one  slight  service  which  I  joyed  to  render  Perion. 
Let  him  who  would  understand  the  mystery  of 
the  Crucifixion  first  become  a  lover !  I  pray  for 
old  sake's  sake  that  Perion  and  his  lady  may 
taste  of  every  prosperity.  Indeed,  I  do  not  envy 
her.  Rather  I  pity  her,  because  last  night  I  wan- 
dered through  a  certain  forest  hand-in-hand  with 
a  young  Perion,  whose  excellencies  she  will  never 
know  as  I  know  them  in  our  own  woods." 

Said  Demetrios:  "Do  you  console  yourself 
with  dreams  ?"  The  swart  man  grinned. 

"Now  it  is  always  twilight  in  these  woods,  and 
the  light  there  is  neither  green  nor  gold,  but  both 
colours  intermingled.  It  is  like  a  friendly  cloak 
for  all  who  have  been  unhappy,  even  very  long 
ago.  Iseult  is  there,  and  Thisbe,  too,  and  many 
others,  and  they  are  not  severed  from  their  lovers 
now.  .  .  .  Sometimes  Dame  Venus  passes,  rid- 
ing upon  a  panther,  and  low-hanging  leaves 
clutch  at  her  tender  flesh.  Then  Perion  and  I 
peep  from  a  coppice  and  are  very  glad  and  a 
little  frightened  in  the  heart  of  our  own  woods/' 


NOW       NACUMERA      IS      HELD 

Said  Demetrios:  "Do  you  console  yourself 
with  madness  ?"  He  showed  no  sign  of  mirth. 

"Ah,  no,  the  Perion  whom  Melusine  possesses  is 
but  a  man — a  very  happy  man,  I  pray  of  God  and 
all  His  saints.  I  am  the  luckier,  who  may  not 
ever  lose  the  Perion  that  to-day  is  mine  alone. 
And  though  I  may  not  ever  touch  this  younger 
Perion's  hands — even  their  palms  were  hard  as 
leather  in  that  dear  time  now  overpast — or  see 
again  his  honest  and  courageous  face,  the  most 
beautiful  among  all  the  faces  of  men  and  women 
I  have  ever  seen,  I  do  not  grieve  immeasurably, 
for  nightly  we  walk  hand-in-hand  in  our  own 
woods. 

"Seignior,  although  the  severing  daylight  en- 
dures for  a  long  while,  I  must  be  brave  and 
worthy  of  Perion's  love — nay,  rather  of  the  love 
he  gave  me  once.  I  may  not  grieve  so  long  as 
no  one  else  dares  enter  into  our  own  woods." 

"Now  go,"  said  the  proconsul  when  she  had 
done,  and  he  had  noted  her  soft,  deep,  devoted 
gaze  at  one  who  was  not  there;  "now  go  before 
I  slay  you !"  And  this  new  Demetrios  whom  she 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

then  saw  was  featured  like  a  devil  in  sore  tor- 
ment. 

Wonderingly  Melicent  obeyed  him. 

Thought  Melicent,  who  was  too  proud  to  show 
her  anguish:  "I  could  have  borne  aught  else, 
but  this  I  am  too  cowardly  to  bear  without  com- 
plaint. I  am  a  very  contemptible  person.  I 
ought  to  love  this  Melusine,  who  no  doubt  loves 
him  quite  as  much  as  I  do — how  could  she  do 
else  ? — and  yet  I  cannot.  I  can  only  weep  that  I, 
robbed  of  all  joy  and  with  no  children  to  bewail 
me,  must  travel  very  tediously  toward  death,  a 
friendless  woman  cursed  by  fate,  while  this  Melu- 
sine laughs  with  her  children.  She  has  two  chil- 
dren, as  Demetrios  reports.  I  think  the  boy  must 
be  the  more  like  Perion.  I  think  she  must  be 
very  happy  when  she  lifts  that  boy  into  her  lap." 

Thus  Melicent;  and  her  full-blooded  husband 
was  not  much  more  lighthearted.  He  went  away 
from  Nacumera  shortly,  in  a  shaking  rage  which 
robbed  him  of  his  hands'  control,  intent  to  kill 
and  pillage,  and,  in  fine,  to  make  all  other  per- 
sons share  his  misery. 

[150] 


IV 

HOW    DEMETRIOS    CRIED    FAREWELL 

AND  then  one  day,  when  the  proconsul 
had  been  absent  some  six  weeks,  Aha- 
suerus  fetched  Dame  Melicent  into  the 
Court  of  Stars.  Demetrios  lay  upon  the  divan 
supported  by  many  pillows,  as  though  he  had  not 
ever  stirred  since  that  first  day  when  an  unfet- 
tered Melicent,  who  was  a  princess  then,  exulted 
in  her  youth  and  comeliness. 

"Stand  there/'  he  said,  and  did  not  move  at 
all,  "that  I  may  see  my  purchase/' 

And  presently  he  smiled,  though  wryly. 

"Of  my  own  will  I  purchased  misery.  Yea, 
and  death  also.  It  is  amusing.  .  .  .  Two  days 
ago,  in  a  brief  skirmish,  a  league  north  of  Ca- 
lonak,  the  Prankish  leader  met  me  hand  to  hand. 
He  has  endeavoured  to  bring  this  about  for  a  long 
while.  I  also  wished  it.  Nothing  could  be 
sweeter  than  to  feel  the  horse  beneath  me  wading 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

in  his  blood,  I  thought.  .  .  .  Ey,  well,  he  dis- 
mounted me  at  the  first  encounter,  though  I  am 
no  weakling.  I  cannot  understand  quite  how  it 
happened.  Pious  people  will  say  some  deity 
was  offended,  but  for  my  part,  I  think  my  horse 
stumbled.  It  does  not  seem  to  matter  now. 
What  really  matters,  more  or  less,  is  that  it  would 
appear  the  man  broke  my  backbone  as  one  snaps 
a  straw,  since  I  cannot  move  a  limb  of  me  below 
the  shoulders." 

"Seignior,"  said  Melicent,  "you  mean  that  you 
are  dying!" 

He  answered :  "Yes,  but  it  is  a  trivial  discom- 
fort, now  I  see  that  it  grieves  you  a  little." 

She  spoke  his  name  some  three  times,  sobbing. 
It  was  in  her  mind  even  then  how  strange  it  was 
that  she  should  grieve  for  Demetrios. 

"O  Melicent,"  he  harshly  said,  "let  us  have 
done  with  lies.  That  Prankish  captain  who  has 
brought  about  my  death  is  Perion  de  la  Foret. 
He  has  not  ever  faltered  in  the  duel  between  us 
since  your  paltry  emeralds  paid  for  his  first  arma- 
ment.— Why,  yes,  I  lied.  I  always  hoped  the 


FAREWELL         IS         CRIED 

man  would  do  as  in  his  place  I  would  have  done. 
I  hoped  in  vain.  For  many  long  and  hard- 
fought  years  this  handsome  maniac  has  been  as- 
sailing Nacumera,  tirelessly.  Then  the  water- 
demon's  daughter,  that  strange  and  wayward 
woman  of  Brunbelois,  attempted  to  ensnare 
him.  And  that  too  was  in  vain.  She  failed,  my 
spies  reported — even  Dame  Melusine,  who  had 
not  ever  failed  before  in  such  endeavours." 

"And  why?''  said  Melicent.  A  glorious 
change  had  come  into  her  lovely  face. 

"Because  of  you.  En  cor  gentil  domnei  per 
mort  no  passa,  as  they  sing  in  your  native  country. 
Ey,  how  indomitably  I  lied,  what  pains  I  took,  lest 
you  should  ever  know  of  this !  And  now  it  does  not 
seem  to  matter  any  more.  .  .  .  The  love  this  man 
bears  for  you,"  snarled  Demetrios,  "is  sprung 
of  the  High  God  whom  we  diversely  worship. 
The  love  I  bear  you  is  only  human,  since  I,  too, 
am  only  human."  And  Demetrios  chuckled. 
"Talk,  and  talk,  and  talk!  There  is  no  bird  in 
any  last  year's  nest." 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  unmoved  hand,  and 

[153] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

found  it  cold  and  swollen.  She  wept  to  see  the 
broken  tyrant,  who  to  her  at  least  had  been  not 
all  unkind. 

He  said,  with  a  great  hunger  in  his  eyes :  "So 
likewise  ends  the  duel  which  was  fought  between 
us  two.  I  would  salute  the  victor  if  I  could. 
.  .  .  Ey,  Melicent,  I  still  consider  you  and  Perion 
are  fools.  We  have  a  not  intolerable  world  to  live 
in,  and  common  sense  demands  we  make  the  most 
of  every  tidbit  it  affords.  Yet  you  can  find  in 
it  only  an  exercising-ground  for  infatuation,  and 
in  all  its  contents — pleasures  and  pains  alike — 
only  so  many  obstacles  for  rapt  insanity  to  over- 
ride. I  do  not  understand  this  mania;  I  would 
I  might  have  known  it,  none  the  less.  Always 
I  envied  you  more  than  I  loved  you.  Always 
my  desire  was  less  to  win  the  love  of  Melicent 
than  to  love  Melicent  as  Melicent  loved  Perion. 
I  was  incapable  of  this.  Yet  I  have  loved  you. 
That  was  the  reason,  I  believe,  I  put  aside  my 
purchased  toy."  It  seemed  to  puzzle  him. 

"Fair  friend,  it  is  the  most  honourable  of  rea- 
sons. You  have  done  knightly.  In  this,  at 

[154] 


FAREWELL         IS         CRIED 

least,  you  have  done  that  which  would  be  not  un- 
worthy of  Perion  de  la  Foret."  A  woman 
never  avid  for  strained  subtleties,  it  may  be  that 
she  never  understood,  quite,  why  Demetrios 
laughed. 

He  said :  "I  mean  to  serve  you  now,  as  I  had 
always  meant  to  serve  you  some  day.  Ey,  yes, 
I  think  I  always  meant  to  give  you  back  to  Perion 
as  a  free  gift.  Meanwhile  to  see,  and  writhe  in 
seeing,  your  perfection  has  meant  so  much  to 
me  that  daily  I  have  delayed  such  a  transfigura- 
tion of  myself  until  to-morrow."  The  man 
grimaced.  "My  son  Orestes,  who  will  pres- 
ently succeed  me,  has  been  summoned.  I  will 
order  that  he  conduct  you  at  once  into  Perion's 
camp — yonder  by  Quesiton.  I  think  I  shall  not 
live  three  days." 

"I  would  not  leave  you,  friend,  until — " 

His  grin  was  commentary  and  completion 
equally. 

"A  dead  dog  has  no  teeth  wherewith  to  serve 
even  virtue.  Oh,  no,  my  women  hate  you  far 
too  greatly.  You  must  go  straightway  to  this 

[155] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Perion,  while  Demetrios  of  Anatolia  is  alive,  or 
else  not  ever  go." 

She  had  no  words.  She  wept,  and  less  for 
joy  of  winning  home  to  Perion  at  last  than  for 
her  grief  that  Demetrios  was  dying.  And, 
woman-like,  she  could  remember  only  that  the 
man  had  loved  her  in  his  fashion.  And,  woman- 
like, she  could  but  wonder  at  the  strength  of  Pe- 
rion. 

Then  Demetrios  said:  "I  must  depart  into  a 
doubtful  exile.  I  have  been  powerful  and  val- 
iant, I  have  laughed  loud,  I  have  drunk  deep, 
but  heaven  no  longer  wishes  Demetrios  to  exist. 
I  am  unable  to  support  my  sadness,  so  near  am 
I  to  my  departure  from  all  I  have  loved.  I  cry 
farewell  to  all  diversions  and  sports,  to  well- 
fought  battles,  to  furred  robes  of  vair  and  of  silk, 
to  noisy  merriment,  to  music,  to  vain-gloriously 
coloured  gems,  and  to  brave  deeds  in  open  sun- 
light ;  for  I  desire — and  I  entreat  of  every  person 
— only  compassion  and  pardon. 

"Chiefly  I  grieve  because  I  must  leave  Meli- 
cent  behind  me,  in  a  perilous  land,  abandoned  to 


FAREWELL         IS         CRIED 

the  mercy  of  all  those  who  wish  her  ill.  I  was 
a  noted  warrior,  I  was  mighty  of  muscle,  and  I 
could  have  defended  her  stoutly.  But  I  lie 
broken  in  the  hand  of  Destiny.  It  is  necessary 
I  depart  into  the  place  where  sinners,  whether 
crowned  or  ragged,  must  seek  for  unearned 
mercy.  I  cry  farewell  to  all  that  I  have  loved, 
to  all  that  I  have  injured;  and  so  in  chief  to  you, 
dear  Melicent,  I  cry  farewell,  and  of  you  in  chief 
I  crave  compassion  and  pardon. 

"O  eyes  and  hair  and  lips  of  Melicent,  that  I 
have  loved  so  long,  I  do  not  hunger  for  you  now. 
Yet,  as  a  dying  man,  I  cry  to  the  clean  soul  of 
Melicent — the  only  adversary  that  in  all  my  life- 
time I  who  was  once  Demetrios  could  never  con- 
quer. A  ravening  beast  was  I,  and  as  a  beast  I 
raged  to  see  you  so  unlike  me.  And  now,  a  dying 
beast,  I  cry  to  you,  but  not  for  love,  since  that  is 
overpast.  I  cry  for  pity  that  I  have  not  earned, 
for  pardon  which  I  have  not  merited.  Con- 
quered and  impotent,  I  cry  to  you,  O  soul  of 
Melicent,  for  compassion  and  pardon. 

"Melicent,  it  may  be  that  when  I  am  dead, 

[157] 


THE       SOUL       OF       M  E  L  I  C  E  N  T 

when  nothing  remains  of  Demetrios  except  his 
tomb,  you  will  comprehend  I  loved,  even  while  I 
hated,  what  is  divine  in  you.  Then  since  you 
are  a  woman,  you  will  lift  your  lover's  face  be- 
tween your  hands,  as  you  have  never  lifted  my 
face,  Melicent,  and  you  will  tell  him  of  my  folly 
merrily;  yet  since  you  are  a  woman,  you  will 
sigh  afterward,  and  you  will  not  deny  me  com- 
passion and  pardon." 

She  gave  him  both — she  who  was  prodigal  of 
charity.  Orestes  came,  with  Ahasuerus  at  his 
heels,  and  Demetrios  sent  Melicent  into  the  Wom- 
en's Garden,  so  that  father  and  son  might  talk 
together.  She  waited  in  this  place  for  a  half- 
hour,  just  as  the  proconsul  had  commanded  her, 
consciously  obeying  him  for  the  last  time. 

It  was  not  gladness  which  Melicent  knew  for 
a  brief  while.  Rather,  it  was  a  strange  new 
comprehension  of  the  world.  To  Melicent  the 
world  seemed  very  lovely. 

Indeed,  the  Women's  Garden  on  this  morning 
lacked  nothing  to  delight  each  sense.  Its  hedges 


FAREWELL         IS         CRIED 

were  of  flowering  jessamine;  its  walkways  were 
spread  with  new  sawdust  tinged  with  crocus  and 
vermilion  and  with  mica  beaten  into  a  powder; 
and  it  was  rich  in  fruit-bearing  trees  and  welling 
waters.  The  sun  shone,  and  birds  chaunted  mer- 
rily to  the  right  hand  and  to  the  left.  Dog- 
headed  apes,  sacred  to  the  moon,  were  chattering 
in  the  trees.  There  was  a  statue  in  this  place, 
carved  out  of  black  stone,  in  the  likeness  of  a 
woman,  having  enamelled  eyes  and  three  rows  of 
breasts,  with  the  lower  part  of  her  body  confined 
in  a  sheath;  and  upon  its  glistening  pedestal 
chameleons  sunned  themselves  with  distended 
throats.  Round  about  Melicent  were  nodding 
armaments  of  roses  and  gillyflowers  and  narcissi 
and  amaranths,  and  many  violets  and  white  lilies, 
and  other  flowers  of  all  kinds  and  colours. 

To  Melicent  the  world  seemed  very  lovely. 
Here  was  a  world  created  by  Eternal  Love 
that  people  might  serve  love  in  it  not  all  unworth- 
ily. Here  were  anguishes  to  be  endured,  and 
time  and  human  frailty  and  temporal  hardship — 
all  for  love  to  mock  at;  a  sea  or  two  for  love  to 

[159] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

sever,  a  man-made  law  or  so  for  love  to  override, 
a  shallow  wisdom  for  love  to  deny,  in  exultance 
that  these  ills  at  most  were  only  corporal  hin- 
drances. This  done,  you  have  the  right  to  come 
— come  hand-in-hand — to  heaven  whose  liegelord 
was  Eternal  Love. 

Thus  Melicent,  who  knew  that  Perion  loved 
her. 

She  did  not  dare  to  think  of  seeing  Perion 
again.  She  only  made  a  little  song  in  her  clean 
heart  because  of  him,  which  had  not  any  words 
to  it,  so  that  it  is  not  possible  here  to  retail  this 
song. 

Thus  Melicent,  who  knew  that  Perion  loved 
her. 


[160] 


M 


V 

HOW   ORESTES   RULED 

ELTCENT  returned  into  the  Court  of 


Stars;  and  as  she  entered,  Orestes 
lifted  one  of  the  red  cushions  from 
Demetrios'  face.  The  eyes  of  Ahasuerus,  who 
stood  by  negligently,  were  as  expressionless  as 
the  eyes  of  a  snake. 

"The  great  proconsul  laid  an  inconvenient 
mandate  upon  me,"  said  Orestes.  "The  great 
proconsul  has  been  removed  from  us  in  order 
that  his  splendour  may  enhance  the  glories  of 
Elysium." 

She  saw  that  the  young  man  had  smothered 
his  own  father  in  the  flesh  as  he  lay  helpless ;  and 
knew  thereby  he  was  indeed  the  son  of  Deme- 
trios. 

"Go,"  this  Orestes  said  thereafter ;  "go,  and  re- 
member I  am  master  here." 

Said  Melicent:  "And  by  which  door?"  A 
little  hope  there  was  as  yet. 

[161] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

But  he,  as  half  in  shame,  had  pointed  to  the 
entrance  of  the  Women's  Garden.  "I  have  no 
enmity  against  you,  outlander.  Yet  my  mother 
desires  to  talk  with  you.  Also  there  is  some  bar- 
gaining to  be  completed  with  Ahasuerus  here." 

Then  Melicent  knew  what  had  prompted  the 
proconsul's  murder.  It  seemed  unfair  Callistion 
should  hate  her  with  such  bitterness;  yet  she  re- 
membered certain  thoughts  concerning  Dame 
Melusine,  and  did  not  wonder  at  Callistion's  mania 
half  so  much  as  did  Callistion's  son. 

"I  must  endure  discomfort  and  it  may  be  tor- 
ture for  a  little  longer/'  said  Melicent,  and 
laughed  whole-heartedly.  "Oh,  but  to-day  I  find 
a  cure  for  every  ill,"  said  Melicent;  and  there- 
upon she  left  Orestes  as  a  princess  should. 

But  first  she  knelt  by  that  which  yesterday  had 
been  her  master. 

"I  have  no  word  of  praise  or  blame  to  give 
you  in  farewell.  You  were  not  admirable,  Deme- 
trios.  But  you  depart  upon  a  fearful  journey, 
and  in  my  heart  there  is  just  memory  of  the  long 
years  wherein  according  to  your  fashion  you  were 


NOW       ORESTES       RULES 

kind  to  me.  A  bargain  is  a  bargain.  I  sold 
with  open  eyes  that  which  you  purchased.  I  may 
not  reproach  you." 

Then  Melicent  lifted  the  dead  face  between  her 
hands,  as  mothers  caress  their  boys  in  questioning 
them. 

"I  would  I  had  done  this  when  you  were 
living,"  said  Melicent,  "because  I  understand 
now  that  you  loved  me  in  your  fashion.  And  I 
pray  that  you  may  know  I  am  the  happiest  woman 
in  the  world,  because  I  think  this  knowledge 
would  now  gladden  you.  I  go  to  slavery,  Deme- 
trios,  where  I  was  queen,  I  go  to  hardship,  and 
it  may  be  that  I  go  to  death.  But  I  have  learned 
this  assuredly — that  love  endures,  that  the  strong 
knot  which  unites  my  heart  and  Perion's  can 
never  be  untied.  Oh,  living  is  a  higher  thing 
than  you  or  I  had  dreamed !  And  I  have  in  my 
heart  just  pity,  poor  Demetrios,  for  you  who 
never  found  the  love  of  which  I  must  endeavour 
to  be  worthy.  A  curse  was  I  to  you  unwillingly, 
as  you — I  now  believe — have  been  to  me  against 
your  will.  So  at  the  last  I  turn  anew  to  bar- 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELI  C  E  N  T 

gaining  and  cry — in  your  deaf  ears — Pardon  for 
pardon,  0  Demetrios!" 

Then  Melicent  kissed  pitiable  lips  which  would 
not  ever  sneer  again,  and,  rising,  passed  into  the 
Women's  Garden,  proudly  and  unafraid. 

Ahasuerus  shrugged  so  patiently  that  she  was 
half  afraid.  Then,  as  a  cloud  passes,  she  saw 
that  all  further  bufferings  would  of  necessity  be 
trivial.  For  Perion,  as  she  now  knew,  was  very 
near  to  her — single  of  purpose,  clean  of  hands, 
and  filled  with  such  a  love  as  thrilled  her  with 
delicious  fears  of  her  own  poor  unworthiness. 


VI 

HOW   WOMEN    TALKED   TOGETHER 

DAME  MELICENT  walked  proudly 
through  the  Women's  Garden,  and  pres- 
ently entered  a  grove  of  orange  trees, 
the  most  of  which  were  at  this  season  about 
their  flowering.  In  this  place  was  an  artificial 
pool  by  which  the  trees  were  nourished.  On  its 
embankment  sprawled  the  body  of  young  Dio- 
phantus,  a  child  of  some  ten  years  of  age,  Deme- 
trios'  son  by  Tryphera.  Orestes  had  strangled 
Diophantus  in  order  that  there  might  be  no  rival 
to  Orestes'  claims.  The  lad  lay  on  his  back,  and 
his  left  arm  hung  elbow-deep  in  the  water,  which 
swayed  it  gently. 

Callistion  sat  beside  the  corpse  and  stroked  its 
limp  right  hand.  She  had  hated  the  boy  through- 
out his  brief  and  merry  life.  She  thought  now 
of  his  likeness  to  Demetrios. 

She  raised  the  dilated  eyes  of  one  who  has  just 
come  from  a  dark  place. 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

"And  so  Demetrios  is  dead.  I  thought  I  would 
be  glad  when  I  said  that.  Hah,  it  is  strange  I 
am  not  glad." 

She  rose,  as  with  hard  effort,  as  a  decrepit  per- 
son might  have  done.  You  saw  that  she  was 
dressed  in  a  long  gown  of  black,  pleated  to  the 
knees,  having  no  clasp  or  girdle,  and  bare  of 
any  ornamentation  except  a  gold  star  on  each 
breast. 

"Now,  through  my  son,  I  reign  in  Nacumera. 
There  is  no  person  who  dares  disobey  me. 
Therefore,  come  close  to  me  that  I  may  see  the 
beauty  which  besotted  this  Demetrios  whom,  I 
think  now,  I  must  have  loved." 

"Oh,  gaze  your  fill,"  said  Melicent,  "and  know 
that  had  you  possessed  a  tithe  of  it  you  might 
have  held  the  heart  of  Demetrios."  For  it  was 
in  Melicent's  mind  to  provoke  the  woman  into 
killing  her  before  worse  befell. 

But  Callistion  only  studied  the  proud  face  for 
a  long  while  and  knew  there  was  no  lovelier  per- 
son between  two  seas. 

"No,  I  was  not  ever  so  beautiful  as  you.  Yet 
[166] 


WOMEN      TALK      TOGETHER 

this  Demetrios  loved  me  when  I,  too,  was  young. 
You  never  saw  the  man  in  battle.  I  saw  him, 
single-handed,  fight  with  Abradas  and  three  other 
knaves  who  stole  me  from  my  mother's  home — 
oh,  very  long  ago!  He  killed  all  four  of  them. 
He  was  like  a  horrible  unconquerable  god  when 
he  turned  from  that  finished  fight  to  me.  He 
kissed  me  then — blood-smeared,  just  as  he  was. 
...  I  like  to  think  of  how  he  laughed  and  of  how 
strong  he  was." 

The  woman  turned  and  crouched  by  the  dead 
boy  and  seemed  painstakingly  to  appraise  her 
own  reflection  on  the  water's  surface. 

"It  is  gone  now,  the  comeliness  Demetrios  was 
pleased  to  like.  I  would  have  waded  Acheron 
— and  singing — rather  than  let  his  little  finger 
ache.  He  knew  as  much.  Only  it  seemed  a 
trifle,  because  your  eyes  were  bright  and  your 
fair  skin  was  unwrinkled.  In  consequence  the 
man  is  dead.  Oh,  Melicent,  I  wonder  why  I  am 
so  sad !" 

Her  meditative  eyes  were  dry,  but  those  of 
Melicent  were  not.  The  girl  came  to  the  Dacian 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

woman  and  put  one  arm  about  her  in  that  dim, 
sweet-scented  place. 

"I  never  meant  to  wrong  you." 

Callistion  did  not  seem  to  heed. 

"See  now!  Do  you  not  see  the  difference  be- 
tween us !"  These  two  knelt  side  by  side  by  this, 
and  each  looked  into  the  water. 

Callistion  said :  "I  do  not  wonder  that  Deme- 
trios  loved  you.  He  loved  at  odd  times  many 
women.  He  loved  the  mother  of  this  carrion 
here.  But  afterward  he  would  come  back  to  me, 
and  lie  asprawl  at  my  feet  with  his  big  crafty 
head  between  my  knees;  and  I  would  stroke  his 
hair,  and  we  would  talk  of  the  old  days  when  we 
were  young.  He  never  spoke  of  you.  I  cannot 
pardon  that." 

"I  know/'  said  Melicent.  Their  cheeks 
touched  now. 

"There  is  only  one  master  who  could  teach  you 
that  drear  knowledge — " 

"There  is  but  one,  Callistion." 

"He  would  be  tall,  I  think.  He  would,  I  know, 
have  thick,  brown,  curling  hair — " 

[168] 


WOMEN      TALK      TOGETHER 

"He  has  black  hair,  Callistion.  It  glistens  like 
a  raven's  wing." 

"His  face  would  be  all  pink  and  white,  like 
yours — " 

"Nay,  tanned  like  yours,  Callistion.  Oh,  he 
is  like  an  eagle,  very  resolute.  His  glance  be- 
dwarfs  you.  I  used  to  be  afraid  to  look  at  him, 
even  when  I  saw  how  foolishly  he  loved  me — " 

"I  know,"  Callistion  said.  "All  women  know. 
Ah,  we  know  many  things — " 

She  reached  with  her  free  arm  across  the  body 
of  Diophantus  and  presently  dropped  a  stone  into 
the  pool. 

"See  how  the  water  ripples.  There  is  not  any 
trace  now  either  of  my  poor  face  or  of  your 
beauty.  All  is  as  wavering  as  a  man's  heart. 
.  .  .  And  now  your  beauty  is  regathering  like 
coloured  mists.  Yet  I  have  other  stones." 

"Oh,  and  the  will  to  use  them!"  said  Dame 
Melicent. 

"For  this  bright  thieving  beauty  is  not  any 
longer  yours.  It  is  mine  now,  to  do  with  as  I 
may  elect — as  yesterday  it  was  the  plaything  of 

[169] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Demetrios.  .  .  .  Why,  no !  I  think  I  will  not  kill 
you.  I  have  at  hand  three  very  cunning  Cheylas 
— the  men  who  carve  and  reshape  children  into 
such  droll  monsters.  They  cannot  change  your 
eyes,  they  tell  me.  It  is  a  pity,  but  I  can  have 
one  plucked  out.  Then  I  will  watch  them  as  they 
widen  your  mouth  from  ear  to  ear,  take  out  the 
cartilage  from  your  nose,  wither  your  hair  till 
it  will  always  be  like  rotted  hay,  and  turn  your 
skin — which  is  like  velvet  now — the  colour  of 
baked  mud.  They  will  as  deftly  strip  you  of  that 
beauty  which  has  robbed  me  as  I  pluck  up  this 
blade  of  grass.  .  .  .  Oh,  they  will  make  you  the 
most  hideous  of  living  things,  they  assure  me. 
Otherwise,  as  they  agree,  I  shall  kill  them.  This 
done,  you  may  go  freely  to  your  lover.  I  fear, 
though,  lest  you  may  not  love  him  as  I  loved 
Demetrios." 

And  Melicent  said  nothing. 

"For  all  we  women  know,  my  sister,  our  ap- 
pointed curse.  To  love  the  man  and  know  the 
man  loves  just  the  lips  and  eyes  Youth  lends  to 
us — oho,  for  such  a  little  while !  Yes,  it  is  cruel. 


WOMEN      TALK      TOGETHER 

And  therefore  we  are  cruel — always  in  thought 
and,  when  occasion  offers,  in  the  deed." 

And  Melicent  said  nothing.  For  of  that  mu- 
tual love  she  shared  with  Perion,  so  high  and 
splendid  that  it  made  of  grief  a  music,  and  wrung 
a  new  sustainment  out  of  every  cross,  as  men  get 
cordials  of  bitter  herbs,  she  knew  there  was  no 
comprehension  here. 


VII 

HOW    MEN    ORDERED    MATTERS 

ORESTES  came  into  the  garden  with 
Ahasuerus  and  nine  other  attendants. 
The  master  of  Nacumera  did  not  speak 
a  syllable  while  his  retainers  seized  Callistion, 
gagged  her,  and  tied  her  hands  with  cords.  They 
silently  removed  her.  One  among  them  bore  on 
his  shoulders  the  slim  corpse  of  Diophantus, 
which  was  interred  the  same  afternoon  (with 
every  appropriate  ceremony)  in  company  with 
that  of  his  father.  Orestes  had  the  nicest  sense 
of  etiquette. 

This  series  of  swift  deeds  was  performed  with 
such  a  glib  precipitancy  it  was  as  though  the  ac- 
tion had  been  rehearsed  a  score  of  times.  The 
garden  was  all  drowsy  peace  now  that  Orestes 
spread  his  palms  in  a  gesture  of  deprecation.  A 
little  distance  from  him  Ahasuerus  with  his  fore- 
finger drew  upon  the  water's  surface  designs 
which  appeared  to  amuse  him. 


MEN        ORDER        MATTERS 

"She  would  have  killed  you,  Melicent,"  Orestes 
said,  "though  all  Olympus  had  marshalled  in  in- 
terdiction. That  would  have  been  irreligious. 
Moreover,  by  Hercules!  I  have  not  time  to 
choose  sides  between  snarling  women.  He  who 
hunts  with  cats  will  catch  mice.  I  aim  more 
highly.  And  besides,  by  an  incredible  forced 
march,  this  Comte  de  la  Foret  and  all  his  Free 
Companions  are  battering  at  the  gates  of  Nacu- 


mera — " 


Hope  blazed.  "You  know  that  were  I  harmed 
he  would  spare  no  one.  Your  troops  are  all  at 
Calonak.  Oh,  God  is  very  good !"  said  Melicent. 

"I  do  not  asperse  the  deities  of  any  nation. 
It  is  unlucky.  Yet  your  desires  outpace  your 
reason.  For  grant  that  I  had  not  more  than 
fifty  men  to  defend  the  garrison,  yet  Nacumera 
is  impregnable  except  by  starvation.  We  can  sit 
snug  a  month.  Meanwhile  our  main  force  is  at 
Calonak  undoubtedly.  Yet  my  infatuated  father 
had  already  recalled  these  troops  in  order  that 
they  might  escort  you  into  Messire  de  la  Foret's 
camp.  Now  I  shall  use  these  knaves  quite  other- 

1 173  ] 


THE       SOUL       OF       M  E  L  I  C  E  N  T 

wise.  They  will  arrive  within  two  days,  and  to 
the  rear  of  Messire  de  la  Foret,  who  is  encamped 
before  an  impregnable  fortress.  To  the  front 
unscalable  walls,  and  behind  him,  at  a  moderate 
computation,  three  swords  to  his  one.  All  this  in 
a  valley  from  which  Daedalus  might  possibly  es- 
cape, but  certainly  no  other  man.  I  count  this 
Perion  of  the  Forest  as  already  dead." 

It  was  a  lumbering  Orestes  who  proclaimed 
each  step  in  his  enchained  deductions  by  the  de- 
scent of  a  blunt  forefinger  upon  the  palm  of  his 
left  hand.  Demetrios  had  left  a  son  but  not  an 
heir. 

Yet  the  chain  held.  She  tested  every  link  and 
found  each  obdurate.  She  foresaw  it  all.  Pe- 
rion would  be  surrounded  and  overpowered. 
"And  these  troops  come  from  Calonak  because  of 
me!" 

"Things  fall  about  with  an  odd  patness,  as  you 
say.  It  should  teach  you  not  to  talk  about  di- 
vinities lightly.  Also,  by  this  Jew's  advice,  I 
mean  to  further  their  indisputable  work.  For 
you  will  appear  upon  the  walls  of  Nacumera  at 

[174] 


MEN        ORDER        MATTERS 

dawn  to-morrow  in  such  a  garb  as  you  wore  in 
your  native  country  when  the  Comte  de  la  Foret 
first  saw  you.  Ahasuerus  estimates  he  will  not 
readily  leave  pursuit  of  you  in  that  event,  what- 
ever his  lieutenants  urge,  for  you  are  very  beau- 
tiful." 

Melicent  cried  aloud:  "A  bitter  curse  this 
beauty  has  been  to  me!  ay,  and  to  all  men  who 
have  desired  it." 

"But  I  do  not  desire  it,"  said  Orestes.  "Else 
I  would  not  have  sold  it  to  Ahasuerus.  I  desire 
only  the  governorship  of  some  province  on  the 
frontier  where  I  may  fight  daily  with  stalwart  ad- 
versaries and  ride  past  the  homes  of  conquered 
persons  who  hate  me.  Ahasuerus  here  assures 
me  that  the  Emperor  will  not  deny  me  such  em- 
ployment when  I  bring  him  the  head  of  Messire 
de  la  Foret.  The  raids  of  Messire  de  la  Foret 
have  irreligiously  annoyed  our  Emperor  for  a 
long  while." 

She  muttered,  "Thou  that  once  wore  a  woman's 
body—!" 

"And  I  take  Ahasuerus  to  be  shrewd  in  all 

[175] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

respects  save  one.  For  he  desires  trivialities. 
A  wise  man  knows  that  women  are  the  sauce  and 
not  the  meat  of  life;  Ahasuerus,  therefore,  is  not 
wise.  And  in  consequence  I  do  not  lack  a  hand- 
some bribe  for  this  Bathyllos  whom  our  good 
Emperor — misguided  man! — is  weak  enough  to 
love;  my  mother  goes  in  chains;  and  I  shall  get 
my  province." 

Here  Orestes  laughed.     And  thus  the  young 
man  left  them. 


VIII 

HOW   AHASUERUS   WAS    CANDID 

WHEN  Orestes  had  gone,  the  Jew  re- 
mained unmoved.  He  continued  to 
dabble  his  finger-tips  in  the  water  as 
one  who  meditates.  Presently  he  dried  them  on 
either  sleeve  so  that  he  seemed  to  embrace  him- 
self. 

"What  instruments  we  use  at  need!" 

She  said :  "So  you  have  purchased  me,  Aha- 
suerus  ?" 

"Ay,  for  a  hundred  and  two  minae.  It  was  a 
great  sum.  You  are  not  as  the  run  of  women, 
though." 

She  did  not  speak.  The  sun  shone,  and  birds 
chaunted  merrily  to  the  right  hand  and  to  the  left. 
She  was  considering  the  beauty  of  these  gardens 
which  seemed  to  sleep  under  a  dome  of  hard,  pol- 
ished blue — the  beauty  of  this  cloistered  Nacu- 

[177] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

mera,  wherein  so  many  infamies  writhed  and  con- 
tended like  a  nest  of  little  serpents. 

"Do  you  remember  that  night  at  Fomor  Beach 
when  you  snatched  a  lantern  from  my  hand? 
Your  hand  touched  my  hand,  Melicent." 

She  answered :     "I  remember." 

"I  first  of  all  saw  that  it  was  a  woman  who 
was  aiding  Perion  to  escape.  I  considered  Pe- 
rion  a  lucky  man,  for  I  had  seen  the  woman's 
face." 

She  remained  silent. 

"I  thought  of  this  woman  very  often.  I 
thought  of  her  even  more  frequently  after  I  had 
talked  with  her  at  Bellegarde,  telling  of  Perion's 
captivity.  .  .  .  Melicent,"  the  Jew  said,  "I  make 
no  songs.  My  deeds  must  speak  for  me.  Con- 
cede that  I  have  laboured  patiently."  He  paused, 
his  gaze  lifted,  and  his  lips  smiled.  His  eyes 
stayed  mirthless.  "This  mad  Callistion's  hate  of 
you  and  of  the  Demetrios  who  had  abandoned  her 
was  my  first  stepping-stone.  By  my  advice  a  tiny 
wire  was  fastened  very  tightly  around  the  fetlock 
of  a  certain  horse,  between  the  foot  and  the  heel, 


AHASUERUS         IS         CANDID 

and  the  hair  was  smoothed  over  it.  Demetrios 
rode  that  horse  in  his  last  battle.  It  stumbled,  and 
our  terrible  proconsul  was  thus  brought  to  death. 
Callistion  managed  it.  Thus  I  betrayed  Deme- 
trios." 

She  said :  "You  are  too  foul  for  hell  to  swal- 
low/' And  he  manifested  indifference  to  this  im- 
puted fault. 

"Thus  far  I  had  gone  hand-in-hand  with  an 
insane  Callistion.  Now  our  ways  parted.  She 
desired  only  to  be  avenged  on  you,  and  very 
crudely.  That  did  not  fall  in  with  my  plan.  I 
fell  to  bargaining.  I  purchased — O  rarity  of 
rarities! — with  a  little  rational  advice  and  much 
gold  as  well.  Thus  in  due  season  I  betrayed 
Callistion.  Well,  who  forbids  it?" 

She  said:  "God  is  asleep.  Therefore  you 
live  and  I — alas ! — must  live  for  a  while  longer." 

"Yes,  you  must  live  for  a  while  longer — oh, 
and  I,  too,  must  live  for  a  while  longer !"  the  Jew 
returned.  His  voice  had  risen  in  a  curious  quav- 
ering wail.  It  was  the  first  time  she  ever  knew 
him  to  display  any  emotion. 

[179] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

But  the  mood  passed,  and  he  said  only :  "Who 
forbids  it?  In  any  event,  there  is  a  venerable 
adage  concerning  the  buttering  of  parsnips.  So 
I  content  myself  with  asking  you  to  remember 
that  I  have  not  ever  faltered.  I  shall  not  falter 
now.  You  loathe  me.  Who  forbids  it  ?  I  have 
known  from  the  first  you  detested  me,  and  have 
always  considered  your  verdict  to  err  upon  the 
side  of  charity.  Believe  me,  you  will  never  loathe 
Ahasuerus  as  I  do.  And  yet  I  coddle  this  poor 
knave  sometimes — oh,  as  I  do  to-day !"  he  said. 

And  thus  they  parted. 


[180] 


IX 

HOW    PERION    SAW    MELICENT 

THE  manner  of  the  torment  of  Melicent 
was  this :  A  little  before  dawn  she  was 
conducted  by  Ahasuerus  and  Orestes  to 
the  outermost  turrets  of  Nacumera,  which  were 
now  beginning  to  take  form  and  colour.  Very  sud- 
denly a  flash  of  light  had  flooded  the  valley,  the  big 
crimson  sun  was  instantaneously  apparent  as 
though  he  had  leaped  over  the  bleeding  night- 
mists.  Darkness  and  all  night's  adherents  were 
annihilated.  Pelicans  and  geese  and  curlews 
were  in  uproar  as  at  a  concerted  signal.  A  buz- 
zard yelped  thrice  like  a  dog,  and  rose  in  a  long 
spiral  from  the  cliff  to  Melicent's  right  hand. 
He  hung  motionless,  a  speck  in  the  clear  zenith, 
uncannily  anticipative.  Warmth  flooded  the  val- 
ley. 

Now  Melicent  could  see  the  long  and  narrow 
plain  beneath  her.     It  was  overgrown  with  a 

[181] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

coarse,  rippling  grass  which  mimicked  rising  wa- 
ters from  this  distance,  save  where  clumps  of  palm 
trees  showed  like  islands.  Farther  off  the  tents 
of  the  Free  Companions  were  as  the  white,  sharp 
teeth  of  a  lion.  Also  she  could  see — and  did  not 
recognise — the  helmet-covered  head  of  Perion  as 
he  knelt  in  the  wavering  grass  just  out  of  bow- 
shot. 

Now  Perion  could  see  a  woman  standing  in 
the  new-born  sunlight  under  many  gaily  col- 
oured banners.  The  maiden  was  attired  in  a  robe 
of  white  silk,  and  about  her  wrists  were  heavy 
bands  of  silver.  Her  hair  blazed  in  the  light, 
bright  as  the  sunflower  glows;  her  skin  was 
whiter  than  milk;  the  down  of  a  fledgling  bird 
was  not  more  grateful  to  the  touch  than  were 
her  hands.  Whoso  beheld  her  was  fulfilled  with 
love.  This  much  could  Perion  know,  whose  fond 
eyes  did  not  really  see  the  woman  upon  the  battle- 
ments but  only  Dame  Melicent  as  Perion  first  be- 
held her  walking  by  the  sea  at  Bellegarde. 

Thus  Perion,  who  knelt  in  adoration  of  that 
listless  girl,  all  white  and  silver,  and  gold,  too, 


PERION       SEES       MELICENT 

where  her  blown  hair  showed  like  a  halo.  De- 
sirable and  lovelier  than  words  may  express 
seemed  Melicent  to  Perion  as  she  stood  thus  in 
lonely  exaltation,  and  behind  her  glorious  ban- 
ners fluttered  and  the  blue  sky  took  on  a  deeper 
colour.  What  Perion  saw  was  like  a  church  win- 
dow when  the  sun  shines  through  it.  Aha- 
suerus  perfectly  understood  the  baiting  of  a  trap. 

Perion  came  unarmed  into  the  open  plain  be- 
fore the  castle  and  called  on  her  dear  name  three 
times.  Then  Perion,  thus  naked  to  his  enemies, 
sang  cheerily  that  waking-song  which  Melicent 
had  heard  a  mimic  Amphitryon  make  in  Dame 
Alcmena's  honour,  very  long  ago,  when  people 
laughed  and  Melicent  was  young  and  ignorant  of 
misery. 

Sang  Perion: 

"Rei  glorias,  verais  turns  e  clardatz — " 
or,  in  other  wording:  "Thou  King  of  glory, 
veritable  light,  all-powerful  deity!  be  pleased  to 
succour  faithfully  my  fair,  sweet  friend.  The 
night  that  severed  us  has  been  long  and  bitter, 
but  now  the  dawn  is  near  at  hand.  My  fair 

[183] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

sweet  friend,  be  of  good  heart!  We  have  been 
tormented  long  enough  by  evil  dreams.  Be  of 
good  heart,  for  the  dawn  is  approaching !  I  have 
seen  the  orient  star  which  heralds  day.  I  dis- 
cern it  clearly,  for  now  the  dawn  is  near  at  hand." 

The  song  was  no  great  matter;  but  the  splen- 
did futility  of  its  performance  amid  such  touch- 
and-go  surroundings  Melicent  considered  to  be 
august.  And  consciousness  of  his  words'  pov- 
erty, as  Perion  thus  lightly  played  with  death  in 
order  to  accord  her  reverence,  was  to  Dame  Meli- 
cent in  her  high  martyrdom  as  is  the  twist  of  a 
dagger  in  an  already  fatal  wound ;  and  made  her 
love  augment. 

Sang  Perion:  "My  fair  sweet  friend,  it  is  I, 
your  lover,  who  cry  to  you,  Be  of  good  heart! 
Regard  the  sky  and  the  stars  now  growing  dim, 
and  you  will  see  that  I  have  been  an  untiring 
sentinel.  It  will  presently  fare  the  worse  for 
those  who  do  not  recognise  that  the  dawn  is  near 
at  hand.  My  fair  sweet  friend,  since  you  were 
taken  from  me  I  have  not  ever  been  of  a  divided 
mind.  I  have  kept  faith,  I  have  not  failed  you. 


PERION       SEES       MELICENT 

Hourly  I  have  entreated  God  and  the  Son  of 
Mary  to  have  compassion  upon  our  evil  dreams. 
And  now  the  dawn  is  near  at  hand." 

"My  poor,  bruised,  puzzled  boy,"  thought 
Melicent,  as  she  had  done  so  long  ago,  "how 
came  you  to  be  blundering  about  this  miry  world 
of  ours?  And  how  may  I  be  worthy?" 

Orestes  spoke.  His  voice  disturbed  the  wom- 
an's rapture  thinly,  like  the  speech  of  a  ghost, 
and  she  remembered  now  the  bustling  world  was 
her  antagonist. 

"Assuredly,"  Orestes  said,  "this  man  is  crazed. 
I  will  forthwith  command  my  archers  to  despatch 
him  in  the  middle  of  his  caterwauling.  For  at 
this  distance  they  cannot  miss  him." 

But  Ahasuerus  said:  "Nay,  seignior,  not  by 
my  advice.  If  you  slay  this  Perion  of  the  Forest, 
his  retainers  will  speedily  abandon  a  desperate 
siege  and  retreat  to  the  coast.  But  they  will 
never  retreat  so  long  as  the  man  lives  and  sways 
them,  and  we  hold  Melicent,  for,  as  you  plainly 
see,  this  abominable  reprobate  is  quite  besotted 
with  love  of  her.  His  death  would  win  you 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

praise;  but  the  destruction  of  his  armament  will 
purchase  you  your  province.  Now  in  two  days 
at  most  our  troops  will  come,  and  then  we  will 
slay  all  the  Free  Companions." 

So  Orestes  was  ruled  by  him,  and  Perion, 
through  no  merit  of  his  own,  departed  unharmed. 

Then  Melicent  was  conducted  to  her  own  apart- 
ments; and  eunuchs  guarded  her,  while  the  bat- 
tle was,  and  men  she  had  not  ever  seen  died  by 
the  score  because  her  beauty  was  so  great. 


[  186  ] 


X 

HOW   MELICENT   CRIED   A   NEW   BARGAIN 

NOW  about  sunset  Melicent  knelt  in  her 
oratory  and  laid  all  her  grief  before  the 
Virgin,  imploring  counsel. 

This  place  was  in  reality  a  chapel  which  Deme- 
trios  had  builded  for  Melicent  in  exquisite  en- 
joyment. To  furnish  it  he  had  sacked  towns  she 
never  heard  of,  and  had  rifled  two  cathedrals, 
because  the  notion  that  his  wife  should  own  a 
chapel  appeared  to  him  amusing.  The  Virgin, 
a  masterpiece  of  Pietro  di  Vicenza,  he  had  pur- 
chased by  the  interception  of  a  free  city's  navy. 
It  was  a  painted  statue,  very  handsome. 

The  sunlight  shone  on  Melicent  through  a 
richly  coloured  window  wherein  were  shown  the 
sufferings  of  Christ  and  the  two  thieves.  This 
siftage  made  a  welter  of  glowing  and  intermin- 
gling colours  all  about  her,  above  which  her  head 
shone  with  a  clear  halo. 


THE       SOUL       OF       M  E  L  I  C  E  N  T 

This  much  Ahasuerus  noted. 

"You  offer  tears  to  Mary  of  Bethlehem.  Yon- 
der they  are  sacrificing  a  bull  to  Mithras.  But 
I  do  not  make  either  offering  or  prayer  to  any 
god.  Yet  of  all  persons  in  Nacumera  I  alone  am 
sure  of  this  day's  outcome."  Thus  spoke  the  Jew 
Ahasuerus. 

The  woman  stood  erect  now. 

"What  of  the  day,  Ahasuerus?" 

"It  has  been  much  like  other  days  that  I  have 
seen.  The  sun  rose  without  any  perturbation. 
And  now  it  sinks  as  usual.  Oh,  true,  there  has 
been  fighting.  The  sky  has  been  clouded  with 
arrows,  and  horses,  nicer  than  their  masters,  have 
screamed  because  they  were  appalled  by  so  much 
blood.  Many  women  have  become  widows,  and 
divers  children  are  made  orphans,  because  of  two 
huge  eyes  they  never  saw.  Puf!  it  is  an  old 
tale." 

She  said :     "Is  Perion  hurt  ?" 

"Is  the  dog  quickly  hurt  that  has  driven  a  cat 
into  a  tree?  Such  I  estimate  to  be  the  position 
of  Orestes  and  Perion.  Ah,  no,  this  Perion  who 

[188] 


A       BARGAIN       IS       CRIED 

was  my  captain  once  is  as  yet  a  lord  without  any 
peer  in  the  fields  where  men  contend  in  battle. 
But  love  has  thrust  him  into  a  bag's  end,  and  his 
fate  is  certain." 

She  spoke  her  steadfast  resolution.  "And  my 
fate,  too.  For  when  Perion  is  trapped  and  slain 
I  mean  to  kill  myself." 

"I  am  aware  of  that,"  he  said.  "Oh,  women 
have  these  notions !  Yet  at  a  pinch  I  think  you 
would  not  dare.  For  I  know  your  beliefs  con- 
cerning hell's  geography,  and  which  particular 
gulf  of  hell  is  reserved  for  all  self-murderers." 

Then  Melicent  waited  for  a  while.  She  spoke 
without  any  modulation.  "And  how  should  I 
fear  hell  who  crave  a  bitterer  fate !  Listen,  Aha- 
suerus !  I  know  that  you  desire  me  as  a  plaything 
very  greatly.  The  infamy  in  which  you  wade 
attests  as  much.  Yet  you  have  schemed  to  no 
purpose  if  Perion  dies,  because  the  ways  of  death 
are  always  open.  I  would  die  many  times  rather 
than  endure  the  touch  of  your  finger.  Aha- 
suerus,  I  have  not  any  words  wherewith  to  tell 
you  of  my  loathing — " 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

"Turn  then  to  bargaining,"  he  said,  and 
seemed  aware  of  all  her  thoughts. 

"Oh,  to  a  hideous  bargain.  Let  Perion  be 
warned  of  those  troops  that  will  to-morrow  out- 
flank him.  Let  him  escape.  There  is  yet  time. 
Do  this,  O  hungry  man,  and  I  will  live."  She 
shuddered  here.  "Yes,  I  will  live  and  be  obedient 
in  all  things  to  you,  my  purchaser,  until  you  shall 
have  wearied  of  me,  or,  at  the  least,  until  God  has 
remembered." 

His  careful  eyes  were  narrowed. 

"You  would  bribe  me  as  you  once  bribed  Deme- 
trios?  And  to  the  same  purpose?  I  think  that 
fate  excels  less  in  invention  than  in  cruelty." 

She  bitterly  said :  "Heaven  help  me,  and  what 
other  wares  have  I  to  vend!" 

He  answered:  "None.  No  woman  has  in 
this  black  age;  and  therefore  comfort  you,  my 
girl." 

She  hurried  on.  "Therefore  anew  I  offer 
Melicent,  who  was  a  princess  once.  I  cry  a  price 
for  red  lips  and  bright  eyes  and  a  fair  woman's 
tender  body  without  any  blemish.  I  have  no 

[190] 


A       BARGAIN       IS       CRIED 

longer  youth  and  happiness  and  honour  to  afford 
you  as  your  toys.  These  three  have  long  been 
strangers  to  me.  Oh,  very  long !  Yet  all  I  have 
I  offer  for  one  charitable  deed.  See  now  how 
near  you  are  to  victory.  Think  now  how  glori- 
ously one  honest  act  would  show  in  you  who  have 
betrayed  each  overlord  you  ever  served." 

He  said:  "I  am  suspicious  of  strange  paths. 
My  plan  is  fixed.  I  think  I  shall  not  alter  it." 

"Ah,  no,  Ahasuerus!  think  instead  how  beau- 
tiful I  am.  There  is  no  comelier  animal  in  all  this 
big  lewd  world.  Indeed  I  cannot  count  how  many 
men  have  died  because  I  was  a  comely  animal — " 
She  smiled  as  one  who  is  too  tired  to  weep. 
"That,  too,  is  an  old  tale.  Now  I  abate  in  value, 
it  appears,  and  very  lamentably.  For  I  am  pur- 
chasable now  just  by  one  honest  deed,  and  there  is 
none  who  will  barter  with  me/' 

He  returned:  "You  forget  that  a  freed  Pe- 
rion  would  always  have  a  sonorous  word  or  two 
to  say  in  regard  to  your  bargainings.  Demetrios 
bargained,  you  may  remember.  Demetrios  was 
a  dread  lord.  It  cost  him  daily  warfare  to  retain 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

you.  Now  I  lack  swords  and  castles — I  who 
dare  love  you  much  as  Demetrios  did — and  I 
would  be  able  to  retain  neither  Melicent  nor, 
very  possibly,  my  own  existence  for  an  uncon- 
scionable while.  Ah,  no !  I  bear  my  former  gen- 
eral no  grudge.  I  merely  recognise  that  while 
Perion  lives  he  will  not  ever  leave  pursuit  of  you. 
I  would  readily  concede  the  potency  of  his  spurs, 
even  were  there  need  to  look  on  you  a  second 
time —  It  happens  that  there  is  no  need! 
Meanwhile  I  am  a  quiet  man  and  I  abhor  dis- 
sension. And  for  the  rest,  I  do  not  think  that 
you  will  kill  yourself,  and  so  I  think  I  shall  not 
alter  my  fixed  plan." 

He  left  her,  and  Melicent  prayed  no  more.  To 
what  end  should  she  pray  when  there  was  no  hope 
for  Perion  ? 


[192] 


XI 

HOW  THE  JEW  TOLD  ALL  HIS  PLAN 

INTO  Melicent's  bedroom,  about  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  came  Ahasuerus  the  Jew. 
She  sat  erect  in  bed  and  saw  him  cowering 
over  a  lamp  which  his  long  glistening  fingers 
shielded,  so  that  the  lean  face  of  the  man  floated 
upon  a  little  golden  pool  in  the  darkness.  She 
marvelled  that  this  detestable  countenance  had 
not  aged  at  all  since  her  first  sight  of  it. 

He  smoothly  said:  "Now  let  us  talk.  I  have 
loved  you  for  a  great  while,  fair  Melicent." 

"You  have  desired  me,"  she  replied. 

"Faith,  I  am  but  as  other  men.  Why,  what 
the  devil !  man  may  have  Javeh's  breath  in  him, 
but  even  Scripture  proves  that  he  was  made  of 
clay."  He  now  puffed  out  his  jaws  as  if  in  recol- 
lection. "You  are  a  handsome  piece  of  -flesh,  I 
thought  when  I  came  to  you  at  Bellegarde,  tell- 
ing of  Perion's  captivity.  I  thought  no  more 

[193] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

than  this.  Because  of  an  odd  reason  which  I 
had,  I  served  Demetrios  willingly  enough.  He 
paid  me  well.  So  I  arranged  the  bungling  snare 
Demetrios  proposed — too  gross,  I  thought  it,  to 
trap  any  woman  living.  Ohe,  and  why  should  I 
not  lay  an  open  and  frank  springe  for  you  ?  Who 
else  was  a  king's  bride-to-be,  young,  beautiful, 
and  blessed  with  wealth  and  honour  and  every 
other  comfort  which  the  world  affords?"  Now 
the  Jew  made  as  if  to  fling  away  a  robe  from  his 
gaunt  person.  "And  you  cast  this,  all  this,  aside 
as  nothing.  I  saw  it  done." 

"Ah,  but  I  did  it  to  save  Perion,"  she  wisely 
said. 

"Unfathomable  liar,"  he  returned,  "you  boldly 
bought  of  life  the  thing  which  you  most  earnestly 
desired.  Nor  Solomon  nor  Periander  has  won 
more.  And  thus  I  saw  that  which  no  other  man 
lias  seen.  I  saw  the  wise  and  naked  soul  of  Meli- 
cent.  And  so  I  loved  you,  and  I  laid  my  plan — " 

She  said :     "You  do  not  know  of  love — " 

"Yet  I  have  builded  him  a  temple,"  the  Jew 
considered.  He  continued,  with  that  old  abhor- 

[194] 


THE        JEW        TELLS        ALL 

rent  acquiescence:  "Now,  a  temple  is  admira- 
ble, but  it  is  not  builded  until  many  labourers  have 
dug  and  toiled  waist-deep  in  dirt.  Here,  too, 
such  spatterment  seemed  necessary.  For  you  and 
Perion — oh,  children  lost  upon  a  battle-field!  I 
played,  in  fine,  I  played  a  cunning  music.  The 
high  pride  of  Demetrios,  the  hatred  of  Callistion, 
and  the  ambition  of  Orestes — these  were  as  so 
many  stops  of  that  flute  on  which  I  played  a  cun- 
ning deadly  music.  Who  forbids  it  ?" 

She  motioned  him:  "Go  on."  Now  she  was 
not  afraid. 

"Come  then  to  the  last  note.  You  offer  me  a 
bargain :  Save  Perion  and  have  my  body  as  your 
chattel.  I  answer  Click!  The  turning  of  a  key 
solves  all.  Accordingly  I  have  betrayed  the  cas- 
tle of  Nacumera,  I  have  this  night  admitted  Pe- 
rion and  his  broad-shouldered  men.  They  are 
killing  Orestes  yonder  in  the  Court  of  Stars  even 
while  I  talk  with  you."  Ahasuerus  laughed 
noiselessly.  "Such  vanity  does  not  become  a 
Jew,  but  I  need  must  do  the  thing  with  some 
magnificence.  Therefore  I  do  not  give  Sire  Pe- 

[195] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

rion  only  his  life.  I  give  him  also  victory  and 
much  throat-cutting  and  an  impregnable  rich  cas- 
tle. Have  I  not  paid  the  price,  fair  Melicent? 
Have  I  not  won  God's  masterpiece  through  a 
small  wire,  a  purse,  and  a' big  key?" 

She  answered :     "You  have  paid." 

He  said:  "You  will  hold  to  your  bargain? 
Ah,  you  have  but  to  cry  aloud,  and  you  are  rid 
of  me.  For  this  is  Perion's  castle." 

She  said:  "Christ  help  me!  You  have  paid 
the  price." 

Now  the  Jew  raised  his  two  hands  in  very  hor- 
rible mirth. 

"Oh,  I  am  almost  tempted  to  praise  Javeh. 
Because  of  a  word  said  you  would  arise  and  fol- 
low me  on  my  dark  ways  if  I  commanded  it.  You 
will  not  weight  the  dice,  not  even  at  this  pinch, 
when  it  would  be  so  easy!  For  Perion  is  safe, 
and  nothing  matters  any  more.  Again  I  see  my 
Melicent  who  is  not  just  a  pair  of  purple  eyes  and 
so  much  lovely  flesh." 

His  face  was  as  she  had  not  ever  known  it  now, 
and  very  tender. 


THE       JEW       TELLS        ALL 

"My  way  to  victory  is  plain  enough.  And  yet 
there  is  an  obstacle.  For  I  love  Melicent  and  not 
that  handsome  piece  of  flesh  which  all  men — oh, 
and  even  Perion,  I  think! — have  loved  so  long 
with  remarkable  infatuation.  Accordingly  I  had 
not  ever  designed  that  the  edifice  on  which  I  la- 
boured should  be  the  stable  of  my  lusts.  Accord- 
ingly I  played  my  cunning  music — and  accord- 
ingly I  give  you  Perion.  I  that  am  Ahasuerus 
win  for  you  all  which  righteousness  and  honour 
could  not  win.  /  give  you  Perion —  He  would 
still  be  about  his  butchery,  I  think,  in  the  Court  of 
Stars." 

Ahasuerus  knelt,  kissing  her  hand. 

"Fair  Melicent,  such  abominable  persons  as 
Demetrios  and  I  are  fatally  alike.  We  may 
deny,  deride,  deplore,  or  even  hate,  the  sanctity 
of  any  noble  lady  accordingly  as  we  elect;  but 
there  is  for  us  no  possible  escape  from  worship- 
ping it.  Your  wind-fed  Perions,  who  will  not 
ever  acknowledge  what  sort  of  world  we  live  in, 
are  less  quick  to  recognise  the  soul  of  Melicent. 
Such  is  our  sorry  consolation.  Oh,  you  do  not 

[197] 


THE       SOUL       OF       M  E  L  I  C  E  N  T 

believe  me  yet.  You  will  believe.  Meanwhile, 
O  all-enduring  and  all-conquering!  go  now  to 
your  last  labour;  and — if  my  Brother  dare  con- 
cede as  much — now  conquer  even  Perion." 

Then  he  vanished.     She  never  saw  him  any 
more. 


XII 

HOW   PERION    FOUND    MELlCENT 

SHE  lifted  the  Jew's   lamp.     She  bore  it 
through   the   Women's   Garden,   wherein 
were  many  discomfortable  shadows  and  no 
living  being.     She  came  to  its  outer  entrance. 
Men  were  fighting  there.     She  skirted  a  hideous 
conflict,  and  descended  the  Queen's   Stairway, 
which  led  (as  you  have  heard)  toward  the  bal- 
cony about  the  Court  of  Stars.     She  found  this 
balcony  vacant. 

Below  her  men  were  fighting.  To  the  farther 
end  of  the  court  Orestes  sprawled  upon  the  red 
and  yellow  slabs — which  now  for  the  most  part 
were  red — and  above  him  towered  Perion  of  the 
Forest.  The  conqueror  had  turned  to  cleanse  his 
sword  upon  the  same  divan  Demetrios  had  oc- 
cupied when  Melicent  first  saw  the  dead  procon- 
sul; and  midway  in  the  act  he  perceived  the  fa- 
miliar denizen  of  all  his  dreams.  A  tiny  lamp 
glowed  in  her  hand  quite  steadily. 

[199] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

"O  Melicent,"  said  Perion,  with  a  great  voice, 
"my  task  is  done.  Come  now  to  me." 

She  instantly  obeyed  whose  only  joy  was  to 
please  Perion.  Descending  the  enclosed  stair- 
way, she  thought  how  like  its  gloom  was  to  the 
fleet  unhappiness  she  had  passed  through  in  serv- 
ing Perion. 

He  stood  a  dripping  statue,  for  he  had  fought 
horribly.  She  came  to  him,  picking  her  way 
among  the  slain.  He  trembled  who  was  fresh 
from  slaying.  A  flood  of  torchlight  surged  and 
swirled  about  them,  and  within  a  stone's  cast 
shouting  men  killed  one  another. 

These  two  stood  face  to  face  and  did  not  speak 
at  all. 

I  think  that  he  knew  disappointment  first.  He 
looked  to  find  the  girl  whom  he  had  left  on  Fomor 
Beach. 

He  found  a  woman,  the  possessor  still  of  a 
compelling  beauty.  Oh,  yes,  past  doubt.  She 
was  a  stranger  to  him,  though,  as  he  now  knew 

[200] 


PERION       FINDS       MELICENT 

with  an  odd  sense  of  sickness.  Thus,  then,  would 
end  the  quest  of  Melicent.  Their  love  had 
flouted  Time  and  Fate.  These  had  revenged  this 
insolence,  it  seemed  to  Perion,  by  an  ironical  con- 
version of  each  rebel  into  another  person.  For 
this  was  not  the  girl  whom  Perion  had  loved  in 
far  red-roofed  Poictesme ;  and  he — as  Perion  for 
the  first  time  perceived — was  not  and  never  could 
be  any  more  the  Perion  that  girl  had  bidden  re- 
turn to  her.  It  were  as  easy  to  evoke  the  Perion 
who  had  loved  Melusine.  .  .  . 

Then  Perion  perceived  that  love  may  be  a 
power  so  august  as  to  bedwarf  consideration  of 
the  man  and  woman  whom  it  sways.  He  saw 
that  this  is  reasonable.  I  cannot  justify  this 
knowledge.  I  cannot  even  word  just  what  it  was 
that  Perion  was  made  aware  of  in  this  while. 
For  many  men  have  seen  the  sunrise,  but  the 
serenity  and  awe  and  sweetness  of  this  daily  mira- 
cle, the  huge  assurance  which  it  emanates  that 
the  beholder  is  both  impotent  and  greatly  beloved, 
is  not  entirely  an  affair  of  the  sky's  tincture.  And 

[201] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

thus  it  was  with  Perion.  He  knew  what  he  could 
not  explain,  he  knew  such  joy  and  terror  as  he 
could  not  ever  word. 

Now  he  saw  Melicent  for  the  first  time.  .  .  . 

I  think  he  saw  the  lines  already  forming  in  her 
face,  and  knew  that,  but  for  him,  this  woman, 
naked  now  of  gear  and  friends,  had  been  to-night 
a  queen  among  her  own  acclaiming  people.  I 
think  he  worshipped  where  he  did  not  dare  to 
love,  as  every  man  cannot  but  do  when  starkly 
fronted  by  the  divine  and  stupendous  unreason  r 
of  a  woman's  choice,  among  so  many  other  men, 
of  him.  And  yet,  I  think  that  Perion  recalled 
what  Ayrart  de  Montors  had  said  of  women  and 
their  love,  so  long  ago: — "They  are  more  wise 
than  we;  and  always  they  make  us  better  by  in- 
domitably believing  we  are  better  than  in  reality 
a  man  can  ever  be." 

I  think  that  Perion  knew,  now,  de  Montors  had 
been  in  the  right.  The  pity  and  mystery  and 
beauty  of  that  world  wherein  High  God  had — 
scornfully  ? — thrust  a  smug  Perion,  seemed  to  the 
Comte  de  la  Foret,  I  think,  unbearable.  I  think 

[  202  ] 


PERION      FINDS      MELICENT 

a  new  and  finer  love  smote  Perion  as  a  sword 
strikes. 

I  think  he  did  not  speak  because  there  was  no 
scope  for  words.  I  know  he  knelt  (incurious  for 
once  of  even  victory)  before  this  stranger  who 
was  not  the  Melicent  whom  he  had  sought  so 
long,  and  that  all  consideration  of  a  lost  young 
Melicent  departed  from  him,  as  mists  leave  our 
world  when  the  sun  rises. 

I  think  that  this  was  her  high  hour  of  triumph. 


CETERA  DESUNT 


[203] 


AFTERWORD 

Thus,  rather  suddenly,  ends  our  knowledge  of 
the  love-business  between  Perion  and  Melicent. 
For  at  this  point,  as  abruptly  as  it  began,  the 
one  existing  chronicle  of  their  adventures  makes 
conclusion,  like  a  bit  of  interrupted  music,  and 
thereby  affords  conjecture  no  inconsiderable 
bounds  wherein  to  exercise  itself.  Yet,  since  de- 
ductions as  to  what  befell  these  lovers  afterward 
can  at  best  result  in  free-handed  theorising,  it 
seems  more  profitable  in  this  place  to  speak  very 
briefly  of  that  fragmentary  manuscript,  the 
Roman  de  Lusignan,  from  which  the  histories  of 
Melicent  and  Perion  as  set  forth  in  this  book 
claim  only  to  have  been  retold. 

M.  Verville,  in  his  monograph  on  Nicolas  de 
Caen,1  considers  it  probable  that  the  Roman  de 

1  Paul  Verville,  Notice  sur  la  ine  de  Nicolas  de  Caen,  p.  112 
(Rouen,  1911). 

[205] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

Lusignan  was  printed  in  Bruges  by  Colard  Man- 
sion at  about  the  same  time  Mansion  published 
the  Dizain  des  Reines.  This  is  possible ;  but  until 
a  copy  of  the  book  is  discovered,  our  sole  au- 
thority for  the  romance  must  continue  to  be  the 
fragmentary  MS.  No.  503  in  the  Allonbian  Col- 
lection. 

Among  the  innumerable  manuscripts  in  the 
British  Museum  there  is  perhaps  none  which 
opens  a  wider  field  for  guesswork.  In  its  en- 
tirety the  Roman  de  Lusignan  was,  if  appear- 
ances are  to  be  trusted,  a  leisured  and  ambitious 
handling  of  the  Melusina  legend ;  but  in  the  pre- 
served portion  Melusina  figures  hardly  at  all. 
We  have  merely  the  final  chapters  of  what  would 
seem  to  have  been  the  first  half,  or  perhaps  the 
first  third,  of  the  complete  narrative ;  so  that  this 
manuscript  account  of  Melusina's  beguilements 
breaks  off,  fantastically,  at  a  period  by  many 
years  anterior  to  a  date  which  those  better  known 
versions  of  Jean  d' Arras  and  Thuring  von  Ringol- 
tingen  select  as  the  only  appropriate  starting- 
point. 

[206] 


AFTERWORD 


By  means  of  a  few  elisions,  however,  the  epi- 
sodic story  of  Melicent  and  of  the  men  who  loved 
Melicent  has  been  disembedded  from  what  sur- 
vives of  the  main  narrative.  This  episode  may 
reasonably  be  considered  as  complete  in  itself,  in 
spite  of  its  precipitous  commencement ;  we  are  not 
told  anything  very  definite  concerning  Perion's 
earlier  relations  with  Melusina,  it  is  true,  but  then 
they  are  hardly  of  any  especial  importance.  And 
speculations  as  to  the  tale's  perplexing  chronol- 
ogy* or  as  to  the  curious  treatment  of  the  Aha- 
suerus  legend,  wherein  Nicolas  so  strikingly  dif- 
fers from  his  precursors,  Matthew  Paris  and 
Philippe  Mouskes,  or  as  to  the  probable  course 
of  latter  incidents  in  the  romance  (which  must 
almost  inevitably  have  reached  its  climax  in  the 
foundation  of  the  house  of  Lusignan  by  Perion's 
son  Raymond  and  Melusina)  are  more  profitably 
left  to  M.  Verville's  ingenuity. 

One  feature,  though,  of  this  romance  demands 
particular  comment.  The  happenings  of  the 
Melicent-episode  pivot  remarkably  upon  domnei 

[207] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

— upon  chivalric  love,  upon  the  Frowendienst  of 
the  minnesingers,  or  upon  "lady-worship,"  as  we 
might  bunglingly  translate  a  word  for  which  in 
English  there  is  no  precisely  equivalent  synonym. 
But  the  contemporaries  of  Nicolas  de  Caen  were 
thoroughly  conversant  with,  and  industriously  be- 
lauded, this  obsolete,  odd  form  of  love — at  once 
a  malady  and  a  religion,  quite  incommunicably 
blended — which  they  called  domnei. 

Thus  you  will  find  that  Dante — to  cite  only  the 
most  readily  accessible  of  mediaeval  amorists — 
enlarges  as  to  domnei  in  both  these  aspects  impar- 
tially. Domnei  suspends  all  his  senses  save  that 
of  sight,  makes  him  turn  pale,  causes  tremors 
in  his  left  side,  and  sends  him  to  bed  "like  a  little 
beaten  child,  in  tears" ;  throughout  you  have  the 
manifestations  of  domnei  described  in  terms  be- 
fitting the  symptoms  of  a  physical  disease  alone; 
but  as  concerns  the  other  aspect,  Dante  never 
wearies  of  reiterating  that  it  is  domnei  which  has 
turned  his  thoughts  toward  God,  and  with  ter- 
rible sincerity  he  beholds  in  Beatrice  de'  Bardi 
the  highest  illumination  which  Divine  Grace  may 


AFTERWORD 


permit  to  humankind.  "This  is  no  woman; 
rather  it  is  one  of  heaven's  most  radiant  angels/' 
he  says  with  terrible  sincerity. 

With  terrible  sincerity,  let  it  be  repeated;  for 
the  service  of  domnei  was  never,  as  some  would 
affect  to  interpret  it,  a  modish  and  ordered  affec- 
tation; the  histories  of  Peire  de  Maenzac,  of 
Guillaume  de  Caibestaing,  of  Geoffrey  Rudel,  of 
Ulrich  von  Liechtenstein,  of  the  Monk  of  Pucibot, 
of  Pons  de  Capdueilh,  and  even  of  Peire  Vidal 
and  Guillaume  de  Balaun,  survive  to  prove  it  was 
a  serious  thing,  a  stark  and  life-disposing  reality. 
En  cor  gentil  domnei  per  mort  no  passa,  as  Nico- 
las himself  declares.  The  service  of  domnei  in- 
volved, it  in  fact  invited,  anguish;  it  was  a  mar- 
tyrdom whereby  the  lover  was  uplifted  to  saint- 
ship  and  the  lady  to  little  less  than,  if  anything  less 
than,  godhead. 

For  it  was  a  canon  of  domnei,  it  was  the  very 
essence  of  domnei,  that  the  woman  one  loves  is 
providentially  set  between  her  lover's  apprehen- 
sions and  God  as  the  mobile  and  vital  image  and 
corporeal  reminder  of  heaven,  as  a  quick  symbol 

[209] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

of  beauty  and  holiness,  of  purity  and  perfection. 
In  her  the  lover  views — embodied,  apparent  to 
human  sense,  and  even  accessible  to  human  enter- 
prise— all  qualities  of  God  which  can  be  compre- 
hended by  merely  human  faculties.  It  is  pre- 
cisely as  such  an  intermediary  that  Melicent 
figures  toward  Perion,  and,  in  a  somewhat  differ- 
ing degree,  toward  Ahasuerus — since  Ahasuerus 
is  of  necessity  apart  in  all  things  from  the  run  of 
humanity. 

Yet  instances  were  not  lacking  in  the  service 
of  domnel  where  worship  of  the  symbol  devel- 
oped into  a  religion  sufficing  in  itself,  and  became 
competitor  with  worship  of  what  the  symbol  pri- 
marily represented — such  instances  as  have  their 
analogues  in  the  legend  of  Ritter  Tannhauser,  or 
in  Aucassin's  resolve  in  the  romance  to  go  down 
into  hell  with  "his  sweet  mistress  whom  he  so 
much  loves/'  or  (here  perhaps  most  perfectly  ex- 
ampled)  in  Arnaud  de  Merveil's  naive  declara- 
tion that  whatever  portion  of  his  heart  belongs  to 
God  heaven  holds  in  vassalagg  to  Adelaide  de 
Beziers.  It  is  upon  this  darker  and  rebellious 

[210] 


AFTERWORD 


side  of  domnei,  of  a  religion  pathetically  dragged 
dustward  by  the  luxuriance  and  efflorescence  of 
over-passionate  service,  that  Nicolas  has  touched 
in  depicting  Demetrios. 

Nicolas  de  Caen,  himself  the  servitor  par 
amours  of  Isabella  of  Burgundy,  has  elsewhere 
written  of  domnei  (in  his  Le  Roi  Amaury)  in 
terms  such  as  it  may  not  be  entirely  out  of  place 
to  transcribe  here.  Baalzebub,  as  you  may  re- 
member, has  been  discomfited  in  his  endeavours 
to  ensnare  King  Amaury  and  is  withdrawing  in 
disgust. 

"A  pest  upon  this  domnei!" 1  the  fiend  growls. 
"Nay,  the  match  is  at  an  end,  and  I  may  speak 
in  perfect  candour  now.  I  swear  to  you  that, 
given  a  man  clear-eyed  enough  to  see  that  a 
woman  by  ordinary  is  nourished  much  as  he  is 
nourished,  and  is  subjected  to  every  bodily  in- 
firmity which  he  endures  and  frets  beneath,  I  do 
not  often  bungle  matters.  But  when  a  fool  be- 
gins to  flounder  about  the  world,  dead-drunk  with 

1  Quoted  with  minor  alterations  from  Watson's  version. 
[211] 


THE       SOUL       OF       MELICENT 

adoration  of  an  immaculate  woman — a  monster 
which,  as  even  the  man's  own  judgment  assures 
him,  does  not  exist  and  never  will  exist — why, 
he  becomes  as  unmanageable  as  any  other  maniac 
when  a  frenzy  is  upon  him.  For  then  the  idiot 
hungers  after  a  life  so  high-pitched  that  his  gross 
faculties  may  not  so  much  as  glimpse  it ;  he  is  so 
rapt  with  impossible  dreams  that  he  becomes  ob- 
livious to  the  nudgings  of  his  most  petted  vice; 
and  he  abhors  his  own  innate  and  perfectly  nat- 
ural inclination  to  cowardice,  and  filth,  and  self- 
deception.  He,  in  fine,  affords  me  and  all  other 
rational  people  no  available  handle;  and,  in  con- 
sequence, he  very  often  flounders  beyond  the 
reach  of  my  whisperings.  There  may  be  other 
persons  who  can  inform  you  why  such  blatant 
folly  should  thus  be  the  master-word  of  evil,  but 
for  my  own  part,  I  confess  to  ignorance." 

"Nay,  that  folly,  as  you  term  it,  and  as  hell  will 
always  term  it,  is  alike  the  riddle  and  the  master- 
word  of  the  universe,"  the  old  king  replies. 

And  Nicolas  whole-heartedly  believed  that  this 
[212] 


AFTERWORD 


was  true.  We  do  not  believe  this,  quite,  but  it 
may  be  that  we  are  none  the  happier  for  our 
dubiety. 


EXPLICIT 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

(All  printed  versions,  so  far  as  known, 
of  the  Roman  de  Lusignan.) 

I.  ARMAGEDDON;  or  the  Great  Day  of  the  Lord's 
Judgement:  a  Paroenesis  to  Prince  Henry — 
MELICENT  ;  an  heroicke  poeme  intended,  drawne 
from  French  bookes,  the  First  Booke,  by  Sir 
William  Allonby.  London,  1636. 
II.  LES  AMANTS  DE  MELICENT,  Traduction  moderne, 
annotee  et  procedee  d'un  notice  historique  sur 
Nicolas  de  Caen,  par  1'Abbe  *  *  *  Paris,  1788. 

III.  PERION  UND  MELICENT,  zum  erstenmale  aus  dem 

Franzosischen    ins    Deutsche    iibersetzt,    von 
J.  H.  G.  Lowe.     Stuttgart  und  Tubingen,  1823. 

IV.  Los   NEGOCIANTES   DO   DON    PERION,   publicado 

por  Plancher-Seignot.     Rio  de  Janiero,   1827. 
The  translator's  name  is  not  given. 
V.    LA  DONNA  DI   DEMETRIO,   Historia  piacevole  e 

morale,  da  Antonio  Checino.     Milan,  1833. 
VI.     PRINDSESSES  MELICENT,  oversat  af  Le  Roman  de 
Lusignan,  og  udgivna  paa  Dansk  vid  R.  Knos. 
Copenhagen,  1840. 

VII.  ANTIQUE  FABUL^E  ET  COMEDLE,  edid.  G.  Rask. 
Gottingen,  1852.  Vol.  II,  p.  61  et  seq.  "DE 
FIDE  MELICENTIS" — an  abridged  version  of  the 
romance. 

VIII.  PERION  EN  MELICENT,  voor  de  Nederlandsche 
Jeugduiitgegeven  door  J.  M.  L.  Wolters. 
Groningen,  1862. 

[215] 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


IX.  NOUVELLES  FRANCOISES  EN  PROSE  DU  XIVE  ET 
DU  XVE  SIECLE,  Les  textes  anciens,  edites  et 
annotes  par  MM.  Armin  et  Moland.  Lyons, 
1880.  Vol.  IV,  p.  89  et  seq.,  "LE  ROMAN  DE 
LA  BELLE  MELICENT" — an  abridgement. 
X.  THE  SOUL  OF  MELICENT,  Roman  de  Lusignan, 
by  James  Branch  Cabell.  New  York,  1913. 

XL  CINQ  BALLADES  DE  NICOLAS  DE  CAEN,  traduites 
en  verse  du  Roman  de  Lusignan,  par  Mme. 
Adolphe  Galland,  et  mises  en  musique  par 
Raoul  Bidoche.  Paris,  1898. 


[216] 


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